Anam Cara
by DistinctVagueness
Summary: After passing herself off as someone else to ensure the defeat of Voldemort, Hermione has been on the run, hiding from those who seek her out. What happens when she comes across an old aquaintance on a cold Christmas Eve? SSHG
1. Upon A Winter's Eve

Anam Cara 

Upon A Winter's Eve 

A pale glow of distant moonlight settled comfortably on a winding country lane, with the tranquil orb itself hanging from the black canvas overhead. As a gentle breeze rustled through the tall, unkempt grass, the slightest hint of white flakes could be seen floating drowsily downwards.

Puddles of frozen water on the paths crackled and the tapered leaves on the holly bush that lined the mud-spattered fences, wavered with the changing weather.

Only a small child looking out of a farmhouse cottage in glee at the falling snow would have noticed the lone figure taking slow, un-meditated steps along the icy lane. Of course, at Christmastime, there is rarely any other thing but trees, stars and angels weighing on such a young one's mind. One would think this was as it should be.

Hermione Granger was also of this opinion, but for a different reason. Nobody would be looking for her on an evening such as this. Returning to England had wracked her nerves enough, and the fact that it was the eve of Christmas eased her slightly. Surely no one would be looking for her tonight. The cover of snow gave her extra security.

At times, she wished she'd been able to complete her training to become an Animagus. How easy it would be to masquerade with an alias that would have been undetected- in the time of her learning, she, and anyone else, would have had to be a fool to register with the Ministry. Too many had been hauled into imprisonment under suspicion of being involved in espionage for the Dark Lord.

_She had fired her third Unforgivable that night, sending it flying at the nearest Death-Eater she could. It didn't occur to her that she felt no regret, no sorrow. Only grim satisfaction. Another was dead. They said you had to be firm of purpose to cast one, and if Malfoy, Goyle and LeStrange weren't deserving of that from her, they should have killed her instead._

_Taking a breath, she had quickly glanced around, doing a mental 'still alive' check; Remus. Ron. Snape. Arthur. Charlie. Ginny. Tonks. Harry. _

_Harry. Her eyes widened. Approaching the scene of the battle were several members of the Ministry. She closed her eyes momentarily. She had to do something. If their attention was diverted…_

Realising that she'd stopped in thought, she picked up her stiff, weary feet and began to tread along, as fatigued and despondent as before. Eventually, she had to agree with what her feet were telling her insistently; she couldn't go on forever. The air was cold, and her threadbare cardigan that she wore under thin robes, did little, if anything, to warm her shivering skin.

Shielding her face against the gently falling snow, she looked across the horizon. Hidden in the shadow of a dense copse of thicket and shady, overhanging trees was a tall house, supported by grey slabs of ancient stone. Evidently, it was isolated from the rest of the world, and most probably deprived of an owner. The plants that must have been meticulously placed many years ago in the beds under the jutting-out window ledges on the ground floor, were now dishevelled and close to death, if not already cold.

She recognised the style of the house. Many times had her parents taken to famous homes of writers, inventors, artists and historical figures and she recognised it's tall greatness, iron railings and even the odd gargoyle or two. This house boasted two such stone figures; ravens with steely gazes, perched high on a piece of overhanging roof.

Hermione was surprised someone had left such a grand old maison so deserted and in great need of maintenance. Perhaps an elderly person dwelled there and didn't feel the need to tend to its requirements.

Spirited by the chance of sleep, Hermione dragged her poor feet onwards over the field. The crops no longer grew there, as it was winter, and the mud underfoot, which would have been sodden during the autumn months, crunched as she walked.

She soon reached the iron gates and found with a slight shiver, they were embellished with a twisted serpent, which writhed between the bars, seemingly animate, though it remained quiet still. Unwillingly, she was reminded of Hogwarts and the great green and silver crest of Slytherin house. This home would have been fitting for many of its members, she thought.

Hermione gave the gate that's padlock had long since fallen to the ground, a push, and it swung grudgingly forwards with a screech. She winced and didn't bother to close it again. Her aching head didn't need further noise than it had just endured.

She carried on forward, tentatively now, her furtive eyes searching the house and what she could see of its garden behind it. There was a large wooden building, what she assumed to have previously been a stable. There was no high whinnying or stamping of hooves now. If she found that the house was actually occupied and she couldn't spend the night there, she'd simply ask if she could slumber there for a few hours until she was called to continue on again.

She approached the door and peered through the window beside it, which gave her a view in what appeared to be the main parlour. An unfinished game of chess sat on the square card table, and beside the table was a green wing chair. She closed her eyes, imagining one of the past inhabitants to be perched on the edge of the chair, their elbows resting firmly on the small surface, their eager eyes perusing the board in a thirst to win.

The entire room was covered in a thick layer of cloudy dust. Obviously, no one had lived there or used his room for a great deal of time.

Smiling slightly, she went nearer to the door. Her head was aching terribly now and she longed to lie down and rest her pained feet. Just as she reached into the deep pocket of her robes to retrieve her wand, her eyes caught sight of a plaque over the door, engraved deeply with the following words-

Integellus et Celsus 

She frowned. She supposed it must be Latin. Normally her enquiring mind would make some sense of it, but tonight, she couldn't bear even to think more than she had to.

Hermione raised her wand at the silver lock on the door.

_"Alohomora."_

She stumbled slightly as the magic washed over her, but nothing made her recoil more as the heavy door swung inwards, and a tall, shadowed man stood awaiting her, pure mistrust written plainly on his pale face. Hermione looked up and gasped.

"What the devil do you think you're doing?" asked an angry voice.

 She would have run away, but her legs would no longer carry her and the magic she had used in such a state, had drained her. Her eyes closed and she fell heavily downwards, unaware of an arm grabbing her before she hit the ground.


	2. Out of Sight, Not Out of Mind

Anam Cara 

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Out of Sight, Not Out Of Mind 

Severus watched as the young woman slept, fitfully at times, twisting in her slumber with her dreams etched upon her face. What in Merlin's name was she doing here? She obviously hadn't intended to call upon him; the look of horror in her eyes had said that plainly. He didn't doubt she would have run if she could have managed it. But she hadn't. She'd folded, almost like paper, and fainted dead away.

The question really was, where had Hermione been hiding all these years. Since that day and that last battle, no one had seen her. He remembered that day vividly.

**He threw a Stunner at the nearest Death-Eater, yelling with fury as more tried to overcome him. Severus Snape had played the part too long and now the acting was over. Every curse, every pain, every regret he'd born as a servant of the Dark Lord was now unleashed upon them. The world became a blur, jets of light streaming past him and screams of satisfaction and fear.**

**After minutes that seemed more like hours had passed, the fighting between the Order and the mere minions had ceased. Many bodies lay strewn about, most, he noted in pleasure, of Death-Eaters.**

**But the battle was not over yet. The long-awaited one still raged. The shadows of Lord Voldemort and The Boy Who Lived drifted over the gravestones below, both engaged in a furious duel, the beams from their wands interlocked fiercely. Harry Potter's one lifeless arm hanging at his side.**

**The rest of the Order stood about, holding their injuries and tending their wounds but their gazes were directed at two of the greatest wizards truest legends. His eyes flickered about the scene. Hermione Granger stood alone, her wand clasped in one hand firmly. At first he thought that she was staring at what everyone else was, and then realised she was looking at something quite different.**

**Members of the Ministry were advancing. Severus knew all too well that they were just a few more well placed servants from Voldemort's pocket who had been undiscovered and had helped lead the witch-hunt for any person to be remotely connected with Voldemort. Too quickly the Ministry fell and became full of suspicion. Even if you were working against You-Know-Who, that truth was twisted. The Azkaban cells were full but now the Dementors were gone, it held no fear for many.**

**They were well protected here tonight, he could feel the wards immediately, and no simple spell would distract them. For once, he wished Dumbledore were there. Instead, the elderly wizard lay in St. Mungos, recovering. The Headmaster would have known how to act, known how to prevent them from breaking the connection between the Dark Lord and Potter.**

**Miss. Granger's mind was working the same way, he knew. The former Head Girls eyes were darting between the battle and the Ministry workers. Suddenly they met his own. Decision glimmered in her pupils. She pointed her wand at her own blue robes and muttered an incantation, her voice barely more than a whisper. They Transfigured into a black, hooded cloak. He realised what she was about to do.**

**Hermione Disapparated before he could stop her, and reappeared on the other side of the graveyard, whipping out her wand once more. Her cry echoed hauntingly through the tombstones as she Stunned the Ministry workers before they knew what was happening. His eyes widened. Granger had been able to get past their wards? Of course, it would have been easier, being closer to them, but still…**

**Before they fell to the ground, Hermione began to turn, and as she did so, the hood slipped from her face. The Ministry members' faces were stained with recognition and hers with horror. She had simply meant for them to think that she was an untouched Death-Eater, not actually reveal who was under the cloak.**

**Neither of the two engaged in the main battle even looked away for a second but the rest of the Order had seen exactly what had happened, terrible dismay was in their eyes. They all knew what would ensue. Further Ministry members would arrive and when the Stunned ones awoke they would tell them they had found a new witch to hunt. Already they saw faint light in the distance as they Apparated to the scene.**

**Hermione stood alone, still clothed in the evidential robe. She gazed slowly around at the faces of the Order. Weasley began to run to her, but she began to shake her head. Everyone knew what she would have to do, whether it was for a short or a long time. At the last second, her eyes were connected with Severus's. There was no companionship, no goodbye or any promise. They had never been friends, just strangers, no matter how long they'd known each other. Later, he thought that perhaps it had been easier for her to do so, to stare desolately into cold, black eyes, rather than the ones of someone she loved.**

**Then she was gone.**

Severus's face twisted as it often did when he remembered that day. If there had been more time, he or someone else would have stopped her. In hindsight, it was foolish for her to have done such a thing. Of course, Voldemort had been destroyed and his Death-Eaters kissed, by Dementors who had returned to them at the last minute. Only one supposed Death-Eater remained. Hermione Granger. No matter how many people came to claim her innocence, Fudge and his Ministry and insisted on finding her. A hunt had gone on for three years, only dwindling in the last two years as the enthusiasm died out.

Although he was not satisfied, Fudge decided she was too scared to reveal herself again as any witch or wizard who believed the Ministry would have wanted to kill her on sight.

Of course, the Order had tirelessly tried to find her, to hide her and keep her safe from the Ministry, but they had no luck. Dumbledore had eventually come to the conclusion that Hermione was the one who was preventing them from finding her.

But now she was here. Asleep in his own house. Severus liked to refrain from thinking that. His family would have surely never left it to him if they had known his true identity. A blood traitor, that's what he was. But it had saved him in the end.

He stood and quietly watched her for a little while longer. Once she woke, he would make her tell him where she had been. Severus was confident she wouldn't disappear again- she was too weak to make the effort. Then he would contact Dumbledore and bring her to Hogwarts. If he was correct, Madam Pomfrey could do more for her than he could in this draughty, lonely house.

He looked out of the window. The first lights of dawn were springing upon the land around. The only other residence nearby was the small farmhouse, which was cloaked with a thick blanket of snow, like the white fields around. The light made interesting patterns as it danced which he watched distractedly for a few moments, before he realised with a jolt that it was Christmas morning.

Christmas. That word had long since meant anything to him. Every winter holiday he would come to his old childhood home, but no cheerful fire burnt in the living room, no tree twinkled and there was none of the excited rustling and ripping of paper as new treasures were unwrapped with yells of joy and surprise.

It had also been the season when Sakura had died. Bitter resentment washed over him and he left the room before his mind could wander further. Christmas could pass no sooner for him.

**A/N**: Thank you for all of your lovely reviews. The title, 'Anam Cara' is Gaelic for 'Soul Mate', and 'Integellus et Celsus' is Latin for Pure and Proud. Sort of a Snape family motto of sorts.


	3. No Regrets

Anam Cara 

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**No Regrets**

Hermione awoke in a strange bed, the sheets twisted in a tangled mess around her and the duvet half hanging off it. She was still dressed in her robes and on instinct, she delved into her pockets, only to find her wand was missing. In panic, she shot up, the situation suddenly springing on her like a childhood monster hiding under the bed. Her eyes frantically darted around the dark room, lit only by a small candle, and suddenly fell upon her wand, lying peacefully on the glass top of the bedside table.

Once it was in her hand, a security blanket as such, Hermione now had the mind to think about where she was. The night before was a blur. She remembered trudging tiredly across the field as the snow began to fall, and coming upon an old house, hidden and in dire need of extra care and maintenance. And then...her face fell…

Snape.

Like a hot poker had been thrust at her, Hermione was out of the bed like a shot. How could she have been so careless? The second her feet hit the cold, hard floor beneath, however, she immediately felt shaky and strange. She placed a hand behind her and gently lowered herself back down on the bed, one palm held to her abruptly throbbing head.

"Good morning."

Hermione whirled around. Snape was standing in the doorway, characteristically shadowed in black robes that fell in long lengths over him. There wasn't a smile to be seen on his face. She stared at him, momentarily frozen. There was a long silence as he did the same.

"I'd ask if you'd slept well but…" His eyes ran over her critically. "Obviously, you didn't."

Hermione was in no mood to debate his insult. "What am I doing here…what did you…" she trailed off. "I have to go," she said suddenly, grabbing the cloak from where it hung on the bedpost.

Snape took quick steps forward and lay a firm hand over the cloak, stopping Hermione from picking it up.

No matter how much she would have dearly loved to sink back into the bed and nurse her poor head, she glared at him, attempting to give the impression she was as well as she'd ever been.

"What are you doing?"

Snape sneered at her. "Do you honestly think I'm going to let you get up and go? I'm taking you to Dumbledore."

Hermione stared, her face stricken. "No! I can't…"

He raised an eyebrow. "Where else would you go now?"

"I've looked after myself quite well for five years, Professor Snape," she answered, quietly, but defiantly. "I can be gone without any trouble." _And that's all I'd bring _she added silently. 

"Believe me when I tell you that I am more concerned for my own welfare than yours, Miss. Granger. Especially since I know Mr. Potter will personally _attempt _to murder me if I allow you to disappear again."

For a brief moment, Hermione's eyes lit up. "Harry? He's…?"

"He's perfectly well, unfortunately…as is his wife, and as I understand it, their recent offspring."

She gaped. "Harry's married? And Ron?" she asked.

"Most decidedly a bachelor," he sighed, growing impatient. "I do not have the time to share five years worth of news that is old to me now. Now, if you would just come with me to Hogwarts…"

Hermione looked at him as if he were insane. "Do you have the remotest idea why you have not seen me for five years? I've been trying to divert attention from myself- if I show up at Hogwarts, I might as well turn up with a marching band at the Ministry to announce my arrival."

Snape looked at her for a few moments until Hermione had to turn from his attention.

"Where have you been?" He asked. Was that a hint of subtle curiosity she saw in his eyes?

"Everywhere," she answered, wordlessly refusing to elaborate and staring at the wall.

He curled his lip. "Everywhere is a rather large place, Miss. Granger. Why is it you could not pick up a newspaper there?"

She frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"Nobody has been searching for you for two years, and the better part of a third. It's been a long time since you were on the Ministry's high priority list."

Hermione was silent for a while, her brow furrowed. "And what do you think would happen if I just appeared?" She laughed harshly. " Be 'integrated' back into society, told all my past misgivings were forgiven?" She shook her head. "No. I know enough to know that Fudge is still in charge. What better opportunity to leave a lasting legacy, than to kill the last Death-Eater?"

"If you'd allowed us to find you, you know full well that we had a window to convince the Wizengamot of your innocence."

She stared at him incredulously. "It all sounds well and good put like that, but you try being the one who's on the outside, looking in, with no idea whether she can return to England or not without being killed on the spot for a crime she hasn't committed!"

"Miss. Granger-" he began, his eyes flashing. She promptly interrupted him.

"No! I haven't had the chance to speak like this for five years, and _you will listen!" _

Hermione's own eyes were blazing now and very rarely did Severus Snape admit he was taken aback, but he undoubtedly was at this moment. This once timid Gryffindor, although she was no coward, was displaying the temper of a dangerous lioness.

"I'll admit it was rash, and perhaps stupid of me to do what I did- but I did it and I don't regret it. Voldemort's dead. Harry lives. I did what I had to do and it worked out, no matter what the consequences were for me. Dumbledore said sacrifices would have to be made, and that was mine," she finished softly, her brown eyes meeting his resolutely. "I don't regret it," she repeated.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Are you quite finished?" She shot him a fierce look but said nothing.

"You can continue your tirade at Hogwarts. Dumbledore will be all too happy to let you ramble on." He handed over her captive cloak. "There is some Floo powder on the mantel," he said, gesturing at the elaborate mantelpiece, carved out of pure, black granite and marble. Two simple silver candlesticks stood at either end, their candles unlit.

Hermione didn't move.

"Must I make the decision for you? Think of it this way, A, you can stay here with me, and I assure you my temperament will not change, but only worsen with your presence, or B, you can return to Hogwarts and be with those who would actually be happy, and relieved, to see you again and to keep you safe until Dumbledore is able to free you from suspicion."

Promptly, Hermione walked over to the fireplace. She plunged her hand into the shallow dish of glittering Floo powder. Before throwing it into the fire, she turned.

"Did it not occur to you that I can easily Apparate from here?"

Snape smirked. "I at least hoped that your absence did not diminish your brain activity, Miss. Granger, but given your current question…I rather thought you'd have done it by now if you were able to."

She didn't reply, but was biting back a sharp response. She was finding it hard to keep her retorts and quick answers under lock and key now. It had been so long since she'd been able to talk almost freely, and paired with her snarky past Potions professor, she was quite ready to blow her top at the insensitive bastard, whose smirk irritated her more than she remembered.

She was spurred on by thinking of the Hogwarts infirmary, quiet and restful during the Christmas break, the caring, if strict medi-witch. Madam Pomfrey and the fact that there was a chance of seeing Harry and Ron soon…_It's been so long…_she thought. Hermione's mind was made up.

She threw the powder onto the fire. At once, a roaring green flame shot up in the grate. She had the strange longing to jump away from it rather than into it, as she always did when using the Floo network. Instead, she stepped in and spoke clearly.

"Albus Dumbledore's office!"

Suddenly, she was jerked away in a blurry of countless grates and fireplaces. Just before she left, she vaguely saw Snape reaching for his own handful of Floo powder.

When she arrived at the fire of Albus Dumbledore, Hermione landed, with poise, her knees slightly bent. She straightened up and quickly stepped onto the hearthrug, lest she be trampled on by a soon arriving, non-too-gentle Potions Master. If there was one thing Hermione liked to pride herself on, it was her smooth Floo arrivals. She almost smiled at the memory of Harry constantly coughing from the soot and normally arriving with a pair of snapped spectacles.

She looked across the room. A wizard and a witch stood there by the light of the window. It was the first time she had ever seen the usually unflappable pair, open-mouthed and agape at the astounding sight before them.

Hermione smiled weakly although her insides were churning wildly.. "Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall…Merry Christmas." 

**A/N:**Thanks and Chocolate Frogs to everyone who reviewed, your response is terrific! Sakura...will be revealed. I'm also considering doing a SS/OC fic with her involved once I've got other things out of the way- I'm playing with 12 different plot lines right now. What do you reckon?


	4. Long Time Lost

**Anam Cara**

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**Long Time Lost**

"Good…Merlin," Minerva McGonagall whispered, her face creasing even more than it usually did as her mouth hung open. "Where…" She stopped speaking and resumed staring.

Hermione stood quite still, watching as the two took in what they were seeing. Nobody moved. She had the sudden, striking impulse to flee while she had the advantage of their shock.

It seemed as if Professor Dumbledore's eyes hadn't been so wide a moment ago when the familiar twinkle reappeared. He smiled widely, in what she later realised was relief.

"Miss Granger…to what do we owe the long-awaited pleasure?"

She relaxed slightly at his welcoming reaction, ignoring her old Head of House's still stunned expression. Before she could speak, however, there was an eruption of noise from the great fireplace. The many portraits of past Hogwarts Headmasters and Headmistresses who had peered curiously from their frames, frowned as a soot-stained Severus Snape emerged behind her. He managed to maintain a scrap of self-dignity by landing firmly on his own two feet and brushing off the think dust which clung to his robes, almost making him seem like just another long since swept family relic in his ancient family home.

At any other time, Hermione might have laughed. Instead, she stepped away from the hearth and allowed him to face the Dumbledore.

"Ever heard of a chimney-sweep, Headmaster?" he said, blinking further dust from his eyes.

Dumbledore smiled. "Indeed I have, Severus. Why, in fact, I once read a rather interesting Muggle tale by a chap named-" At Snape's narrowed eyes and McGonagall's cough behind him, he stopped. "Not the time, perhaps…besides, Miss Granger seemed to have any visible trouble."

Snape's glare transferred to her. She avoided his charcoal eyes. It rather reminded her of his Potions classes. It seemed as if her perfect concoctions irritated him rather than pleased him and he insisted on taking away points for petty things when he could not find a fault with her work.

"And Miss Granger is obviously the matter at hand, yes?" Nobody answered; it was fairly obvious she was. He turned to Hermione. "Why don't you take a seat? Just while I talk to Severus outside."

"Yes Professor." Hermione quickly sat. She noticed her hands were shaking. Was it the fact that she still didn't feel too good, or was it simply the situation at hand? She put it down to a combination of both, and settled back, into the squashy cushion that had appeared to accommodate her when she sat down. McGonagall came to sit in the chair opposite as Dumbledore led the way from his office to the stairwell outside. Snape followed him, softly closing the door behind him.

Outside there was no twinkling eyes or warm smile; Albus Dumbledore's face became abruptly serious and he regarded Severus closely.

"When did she come?" he asked.

" Last night," Severus answered. "I would have brought her sooner but she fainted seconds later."

The Headmaster nodded. "I'm sorry Severus, but I'm rather curious- why did she come to call on you? Not that she shouldn't have, of course, but-"

"Potter or Weasley would have been better candidates?" Severus laughed sarcastically. "Feels almost wrong to say that. I don't think she meant to find anyone at all, least of all me. I only knew she was breaking in using an unlocking charm because I felt the house wards being breached."

If Dumbledore frowned, it was only for a glimmer of a second. "Indeed."

"Miss Granger still thought she was being searched for. She was positively terrified at the thought of returning to Hogwarts until I told her."

The wizened Headmaster sighed. "Not being searched for directly, no. Cornelius Fudge will still hold true to his promise if he can, though." Thinking for a moment, he paced away from Severus, towards the wall. He ran his fingers slowly across an old engraving in the brickwork. He turned back.

"I don't suppose she told you where she has been all this time?"

Severus raided an eyebrow. "Not a word," he paused, reconsidering. "Well, one, I suppose."

"Yes?"

"Everywhere."

Dumbledore breathed out slowly. "I rather suspected so. Made it increasingly difficult for us to find her. Of course, Miss Granger is an extraordinarily powerful witch and it is possible to cast an Unplottable charm on one's self, if the purpose is true."

"So strong that even you could not find her, Headmaster?" said Severus, sceptically.

Dumbledore looked at him sharply. "I do not claim to be all-powerful Severus. I ask you not to be guilty of that misconception. But yes, I am rather surprised that I was not able to."

Neither wizard spoke for a few moments until Severus cleared his throat.

"What are we to do about her security, then? And do we inform Fudge at any time?"

The Headmaster studied him. "Not as of yet. We do not need all this upheaval until it is necessary."

Suddenly his old face, with it's many crevices and furrows, lit up and he smiled widely at him.

"After all, Severus, it is Christmas and Miss Granger is finally back with us."

Severus didn't smile back. He felt no joy at the word. He wished that for once the Headmaster would realise that for him, it was akin to be locked in a dungeon with a hundred inept and ridiculously stupid Gryffindors. It was an irritant, a load on his back.

"Come now," said Dumbledore quietly, sensing the reason for his silence. "It was a long time ago. You have to step into the light at least once a year, even if only to pull a cracker and share tidings with those who, believe it or not, care about you."

Severus pushed open the door where they had left McGonagall and Hermione in his office, in reply. He immediately frowned at the hunched over form of Hermione in the chair, McGonagall looking at her, with a half smile on her face.

She looked over at the Headmaster and Severus. "She's asleep. Murmured something about being 'cold' and 'walking too much'. As much as she needs her sleep, I do not think your office is entirely suitable, Albus."

Dumbledore nodded. "Of course." He strode over to the fire, flinging some loose powder into the flames as he did so.

"Poppy?"

A few seconds passed until the head of Poppy Pomfrey appeared, oddly wearing a spring of holly in her grey, combed back hair.

"Yes, Albus?"

"We have a tired and potentially sick visitor who is in need of some rest. I hate to ask you, but could you possible take a break from your holiday festivities and make her up a bed for a couple of hours?"

Pomfrey looked surprised, and peered curiously past Dumbledore. When her eyes fell upon the sleeping Hermione, she omitted a quiet gasp. "Oh my…"

Just as suddenly as the surprise came, it left and was replaced by a firm, business-like expression, the very reason Dumbledore had hired her in the first place.

"Of course I can, Albus. Bring her up straight away. Oh and don't you dare use Mobilicorpus…I'll know if you have." Dumbledore's beard twitched slightly.

"Don't you smirk at me Albus Dumbledore! I'm being serious. Not good at all for patients. Severus, you can carry her."

Severus opened his mouth in protest. "Not a word out of you, Severus Snape. And be quick about it!"

Despite his grumbling, Severus scooped Hermione up in his arms and carried her unceremoniously out of the room, his lip curling. Dumbledore and McGonagall followed close behind.

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**A/N:** Thank you for all of your lovely reviews. To clear some things up- this IS most definitely a SS/HG pairing. My reference to a new SS/OC fic was to provide a more extensive back-story than in this fic of the character of Sakura- I wasn't saying that she would necessarily appear in this one. Also, Rosmerta- tanks for pointing the whole 'Miss' thing out- I wasn't aware I was doing it. Thanks again!

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	5. Surfacing

**Anam Cara**

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Surfacing 

When she awoke, Hermione felt deliciously warm, both inside and outside. Her usually disturbed sleep had been dreamless and restful. The usual train of thought that swamped her mind wasn't present; it felt clear and easy.

Stretching, Hermione reluctantly pulled herself up against the pillows and rubbed her eyes, yawning as she did so. As soon as her lids opened, she realised where she was with a start. The immaculately white, fresh sheets around her and in every bed opposite told her one thing: the Hogwarts hospital wing. She'd certainly spent enough time in here during her years as a student. From cat transformations, enlarged front teeth and a broken leg from stupidly agreeing to fly across the grounds on Ron's broomstick in bad weather conditions, she knew the infirmary like the back of her own hand.

It was funny, she thought, how most students disliked their trips here, no matter how long or short, and she had always felt calm and at peace. It actually felt something like home at times. She surmised that it must be something to do with her actual home-her parents being dentists, had a workplace that smell a lot like this. Not unpleasant, just clean and different. For many it triggered nerves and even anxiety but she relaxed- it made her feel safe.

Hermione slid sideways, allowing her legs to glide out from underneath the warm sheets and touch the cold, stone floor beneath. She shivered, noting that she was now dressed in a less than thick, pale blue nightgown. Beside the bed stood a small cabinet, one she had kept some of her possessions in for a while during her fifth year after that awful debacle at the Ministry of Magic. Atop of it stood a bottle half filled with Dreamless Sleep Potion. Under closer scrutiny, she could see that the label had been written out in careful, precise handwriting by Professor Snape, recognisable from when she had had to select ingredients from his cupboards in her Potions classes.

 Slowly, Hermione pulled herself up. The dizzy feeling she'd had previously seemed more of a faint, irritating buzzing at the back of her head, nothing more. Her outer robes had been placed carefully at the foot of the bed and as she picked them up, she noticed they felt softer and looked cleaner. She slipped them around her shoulders, regaining some of the warmth she'd lost before.

She walked over to the window. Hermione had always liked this view. From here, you could see the lake, which was now covered in a thin layer of ice. She wondered vaguely were the giant squid was these days but let the thought pass; it wasn't important now. The grass was wearing a white mantle of snow and the tall leafy trees she, Ron and Harry had often sheltered beneath during balmy summer days, eager for some shade, now looked grey and cold during these winter months.

Nonetheless, Hogwarts certainly was beautiful during winter. In her opinion, a castle always looked more traditional and fitting when it's high roof and stately turrets had a blanket of white, with drifting flakes floating dreamily past the windows, in a never-ending spiral to the ground.

Caught in the moment, Hermione gazed out for a few minutes more, before returning to her usual state of mind. How could everything about Hogwarts seem so normal, so peaceful when her life never seemed to have settled down since she's began there. That was the magic of the place, she supposed, nothing was ever quite normal under the surface…

She turned from the window. Her feet were getting quite icy now and she couldn't walk any longer on this cold stone without catching her death. Her eyes fell upon her boots that had been placed just under the bed. She quickly stooped to pick them up, and pulled them on quickly, relishing in their fur-lined warmth. They were old, but they were comfortable and reliable. Hermione had come to rely on them.

Quietly, Hermione padded out of the hospital wing, feeling quite surprised at Madam Pomfrey's absence, even though it was Christmas and she was probably enjoying herself elsewhere. The strict matron usually spent all her time fussing after sick students and not letting them out of her sight. She had to know Hermione was there, didn't she? How else would she have been placed there otherwise? Pomfrey's authority was something no other member of staff dared to question and they abided by it. No doubt she would have been alerted to Hermione's presence and put her to bed.

Taking a last look behind her, Hermione closed the heavy door as softly as she could and set off down the long corridor, not entirely sure where she intended to go but that she would get there eventually.

For all her so-called cautiousness, it was a pity Hermione didn't notice a pair of eyes watching from the hedge close by the Snape family winter manor on Christmas Eve, where somebody crouched in the crackling, frozen mud. Then again, Slytherins were renown for their stealth and cunningness, if not anything else. And Draco Malfoy was nothing if not a Slytherin at heart, and good at it.

His knees were cramped up, but he didn't move an inch. It was doubtless that it would alarm her and cause her to run.

The familiar bitter taste filled Draco's mouth. Hatred. It made him want to spring up and yell Unforgivables until his throat was hoarse. But he wouldn't do that. No. He'd learnt his lesson long ago. Never again would he strike like that. Even if he was sure he was aiming at a guilty one that deserved it. What had happened last time stood out far too clearly for him to bear. She was truly guilty though. He knew it.

He watched through tightly narrowed eyes as she half stumbled through the snow, obviously fatigued and exhausted, and paused at the menacing gates. After a few moments of thought, she pushed them open, her shoulders tensing slightly as they screeched with decades of no oiling.

She slowly made her way up the winding drive, her paces quickening as she got closer to the house. Draco felt his mouth purse up in anger as she peered through one of the windows for a minute, and then went back to the door. Before she took out her wand, he saw her glance at the plaque above it.

That's right. Get a good look at it. Do you know what it means? Of course you do. So why is it your intelligence fails when you enter such a house? They do not welcome Mudbloods there, Granger.

It appeared that she did not heed his wordless warning, however, as she had soon obviously cast an unlocking charm and the door swung open.

He was not the only one to be shocked at who was waiting to answer it. Draco craned his head though the prickling leaves to get a closer look. His face became grim, but set firmer still

.

It would have been so much easier if you were not present, Uncle Severus, much easier indeed.

But Draco knew how to do it the hard way too, and with only a few seconds thought, he Disapparated from the scene, simply leaving two deep footprints behind him in the mud underneath the hedge.

**A/N:** Thank you all for your lovely reviews. Animé? Nope, I'm not a big fan- although I know the name Sakura is used in that genre quite often. I was thinking about her character whilst surfing, and I looked up some names in a foreign baby name online site. The meaning of Sakura is relevant to that story, when I get around to writing it, of course. 

**RebelRikki-**  Of course it was convenient…hey, you can't blame the author for using what works…* winks * 


	6. Alternate Normality

**Anam Cara**

Alternate Normality 

"Miss. Granger?"

Hermione jumped in shock and spun around to face the speaker. The move caught her slightly off guard and she laid a hand on the sill of the window that she had been standing by to steady herself.

"Professor Dumbledore."

"You are awake, I see. How are you feeling now?"

Hermione paused. Did he expect a truthful answer to that question? Was he simply enquiring into her health, or her current state of mind? Better to be answering the former, she thought, the latter was confusing her still. Her walk through the school has left her feeling very odd. She felt in between, snared by the feelings of hope and being home, and the desire to flee, to return to her strange past normality.

She took in a small breath. "Better," she answered. "But my head hurts a little and I still feel a bit shaky. I expect it to pass, though. Feels like recovering from a cold, I suppose."

The elder wizard smiled, nodding. "I am glad to hear it."

There was silence and Hermione felt heavily aware of the Headmaster's weighty gaze upon her. She cleared her throat. "The decorations are different from my time here," she noted pointing at the holly leaves and sparkling strands of tinsel that adored the walls.

"Yes, well, we rather thought after all that happened, a change would do us good. Even in the most insignificant things." Dumbledore suddenly looked apologetic. "Oh, I am sorry. Merry Christmas, Miss. Granger. I'm afraid that your coming took me quite by surprise and I forgot to return your greeting."

A ghost of a smile appeared on Hermione's lips. "You're forgiven, Professor Dumbledore."

"Thank you, my dear. I was just in the middle of sharing dinner with the others. I don't suppose you would like to join us? It's only the staff this year, no students stayed."

The smile disappeared. Hermione looked at him without speaking, questioning. Dumbledore opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him short in a low whisper.

"I can't."

"Everyone will be so pleased to see you, I do assure you. It will be no inconvenience if that's what you are afraid of."

Again, Hermione interrupted by, this time by shaking her head.

"Perhaps I should rephrase that," she said. Her voice was a little stronger now. 

She took in a breath. "I won't."

With that, she turned quickly and took hurried steps away from him. In no mood to continue 'exploring, if that's what one would call a place that is not new to us, the castle, she returned to the infirmary. If she knew Dumbledore, he would not follow, at least not until it was necessary.

Several hours passed with Hermione sitting by herself atop her bed, the covers pulled up to her knees to give her a little warmth. Occasionally she slipped in and out of sleep, but nothing lasting. Instead, she sat alone with her thoughts and stared quietly out of the window at the darkening sky and the fresh fall of snow as it drifted past the pane, with the odd flake sticking to the glass and sliding slowly down as it inevitably melted.

There was suddenly the pitter-patter of soft footsteps outside, and the infirmary door swung open gently. Madam Pomfrey looked happy to see her patient was awake.

"Good evening Hermione."

"G-,"Hermione began to reply, but Poppy's bustling about stopped her. "Now then, where did I put them?" She opened a drawer that magically elongated as it slid out. "Ah, her." She pulled out some robes and then turned to Hermione.

"The ones you were wearing before were in a terrible state- rips, dirt, fraying," she continued, murmuring incoherently and then stopped herself. "Now I'm no Transfiguration expert, mind, but I think I did a nice job on these." She held up the almost new robes. They were a deep, navy blue that fell gracefully in a long length, but were practical."

Hermione smiled weakly. "They're nice, thank you." Privately she decided to hack a good few inches off them before she wore them anywhere in public, but they would do for now.

"Now, let's get some dinner down you, and we'll have you dressed and into your room as soon as possible."

"My room?" asked Hermione, confused.

Pomfrey raised an eyebrow. "Well, yes dear, she said impatiently. "Surely you didn't expect to be staying in the infirmary with Professor Dumbledore around?"

Hermione didn't reply.

"He came to me after Christmas dinner and insisted you were feeling better and would benefit from being given your own room to say in, if only for a while." She frowned. "Personally, I would much prefer you to say her, just for another night, but when Dumbledore says…" She sighed and then strode away to a table in the far corner of the room. A silver tray appeared with a small Christmas dinner, pumpkin juice and a tiny Christmas pudding, dancing in flames.

Pomfrey jumped. "Dear me. These house elves get sneakier every day. Always doing this and that, without a trace. Mind you, they do say, that a mark of a decent house elf-"

"Is no mark at all?" finished Hermione. "I know." There was trace of bitterness in her voice. 

"Yes, isn't it convenient that we don't have to see, nor thank those in our service," she continued, irate, more speaking to herself than Pomfrey. "Like the bloody Stone Age, this world sometimes…" she trailed off in a low tone.

The medi-witch looked abashed. "Yes…well." She handed her the silver tray, balancing it on Hermione's lap precariously. "I'm warning you, don't move until all that's disappeared."

"Disappeared where?" Hermione muttered darkly, but said no more. She was ravenous, her last real meal being at a shady inn two nights ago. Digging into the thick slices of turkey, she let out a satisfied little noise. It had been a long while since she'd had Christmas dinner, and no matter how strange it was, she was determined to enjoy it.

"The dungeons?" asked Hermione, and gestured down the steps the Headmaster had been leading her down.

Dumbledore nodded. "Currently this is the only place the castle thought it convenient to make a new room for you, so it'll have to do for now. It's very comfortable though, and terribly quiet."

Quiet didn't sound too bad, Hermione thought. The prospect of living down in the dungeons of the castle wasn't _that _bad, it just surprised her that's all. She'd assumed it was a primarily Slytherin domain. But apparently, there were exceptions.

Dumbledore walked slowly down the steps and picked up a lantern that was hanging from an iron hook on the grey stone wall. He held it up high.

"Just so we can see a little better," he said. "I'm sure that once you get used to the route you will not need the extra light." He continued on down a long hall, past the Potions classroom and turned down a winding corridor.

"Ah, here we are," he proclaimed, smiling widely at her.

Hermione gave a small smile back but after a few moments of total quiet and nothing happening, she felt obliged to ask, "And that would be _where_ exactly?"

"Oh, how silly of me." The elder wizard took a few steps forward. _"Sugar Quill."_

Nothing happened.

"Oh, hold on. _Blood Pop."_

Hermione raised an eyebrow. Had he finally lost it? She never thought she'd have to see the sad day when Dumbledore went around randomly shouting out the names of his favourite confectionary.

Without warning, there was a great scrabbling sort of noise, and the previously stationary bricks at the end of the wall began to move rapidly, like some strange, blurred jigsaw puzzle. Hermione felt like an idiot when she realised what he'd been doing. The password. Of course.

"I took the liberty of setting it for you," said Dumbledore, his blue eyes twinkling in amusement as though he had sensed what she had been thinking. Then again, he probably had heard her thoughts, knowing him.

He waved one hand to the entrance of her rooms. "I'm sure you would like to get acquainted with your new quarters. Sleep tight, Miss Granger."

Slowly, Hermione minutely dipped her head in response and turned to face the door.

"Oh, and Miss Granger?"

"Yes?"

"If you have any problems…feel free to visit Professor Snape. His rooms are just down the hall. Password's _Omnipresent."_

**A/N:** Thank you for so many nice reviews! I'm very flattered. Haha- I know EXACTLY what Draco's plans are…and well, you'll just have to wait to find out. Not for that long though. He's not necessarily Severus's nephew, he calls him Uncle for a different reason, relating to his father.

I've started writing the 'Sakura' back-story and have found a beta for it. All I can say is that I hope to post some of it before I get to the crucial bits about her in the fic.


	7. Lost and Found

**Anam Cara**

****

Lost and Found 

"She's at Hogwarts?"

"Most definitely, Minister. I fear my godfather has been sadly misguided and believes he is keeping her safe by sending her to Dumbledore."

The Minister paused. "Why would she call upon him there anyway? And that raises a further question; why was _he _there?"

"Don't you remember it? The Snape family winter getaway? My father," Draco's voice hardened slightly. "Used to tell me about it. Isolated from the prying eyes of Muggles, perfect for large gatherings, celebrations or…otherwise. Severus most likely spends some of Christmas there."

"Alone?"

"My godfather prizes peace and solitariness over all. Given his past, it's to be expected. Who knows? Perhaps he carries out some of his work there?"

"Perhaps," repeated Fudge slowly. Then he straightened up. "Thank you for the information Draco. I believe we've finally overcome one of our largest obstacles if you are correct."

Draco nodded. "I hope this proves, once and for all, that I have no intention of following in my father's footsteps." He grimaced. "No loyal Death Eater should be left standing."

Fudge watched him carefully. "You have no reason to feel guilt, Draco. You were acquitted of the charges under the proof that you were simply acting in defence, long ago."

The man facing him sighed. His blonde hair, once neat and firmly combed back, grew past his ears now, the ends somewhat straggling. Draco's thin, even pointed, features were still intact though and became even more pinched as he replied.

"I don't feel guilty, Minister. Just a firm sense of…retribution, that's all I have." He was silent for a few moments. "When do you suppose you will be investigating up at the school? Before Christmas break is over, I suppose."

"Oh, yes, certainly. No sense in putting the students in danger when we have this sort of information at our dispense, is there? No…I believe I will owl Dumbledore tonight. Tell him that I simply paying a friendly visit to the school tomorrow. If I tell him who I am looking for, he will most certainly hide Miss Granger and do whatever he can to protect her. Wise man, the Headmaster, but most fiercely resolved, even in matters he does not understand."

Draco was not entirely sure he agreed with Fudge on most counts, but he knew what he meant. Dumbledore had a way of defending things, people and telling him beforehand would hand him more ammunition in shielding Hermione, mistakenly believing she was innocent.

"Good decision, Minister." 

Fudge smiled. "I will be expecting you to accompany me, of course."

"Of course."

Though she had been sitting up since dawn, Hermione felt no tiredness. Restless and unable to sleep, she had padded along through the darkness to her small living room, which was well endowed with various books. For three hours she had curled up in the large, red armchair with _Hogwarts, A History: Revised _and revelled in reading a book that she hadn't had the pleasure of for a long time.

Placing the leather bookmark she had found in the middle of the heavy book, she stood up and stretched.

The window, she found this particular luxury an oddity, as it was set into a wall of the dungeons, was now letting a little light shine through, reflecting the polished wood surfaces in the room, alerting her to the fact that it was getting later.

The book was placed lovingly back onto the shelves and Hermione went back into her bedroom.

A tall armoire stood in the corner, bearing the Hogwarts crest. She ran her fingers over it for a moment, thinking, before pulling the doors open. She raised her eyebrows at the veritable mass of robes inside. There were all sorts, from casual to dressy in various shades and materials. She pulled out a set of dark green ones and examined it critically. Just right, she thought.

It fitted perfectly and she felt herself smiling. It was a while since she'd had something 'new' to wear. It felt soft and smooth, no signs of weariness or ragged hems.

Hermione sat down on the bed she'd barely slept in, and felt it sink slightly at her weight. She breathed out slowly. This 'trip' to Hogwarts still felt strange, even wrong. It was odd that just a few days ago, she'd been relying on pure luck and her wand to get her by, and she'd stumbled, somewhat, into this almost perfect world where there seemed to be nothing to worry about.

How long will it last, she thought, standing up and walking over to the dresser. On top stood a large, round mirror. Taking a chance, she peered rather fearfully into it. The real fright was that the girl looking back at her didn't show any shock, as she stared back at her own reflection. Hermione's hair was much longer than it had once been, in a rather straggly mess from not drying it the night before. Her eyes had lost their usual warmth and sparkle, and watched her examination bleakly, and were drawn and grey. Hermione's skin looked pale and tight, no more freckles or a tinge of redness in her cheeks.

Hermione was interrupted rudely from her reflection by an insistent knocking on the door. Startled, she turned from the mirror and quickly left the room, heading to the door.

"_Blood Pop,"_ she cried as the knocks became louder. The bricks moved aside and she met the face of an impatient Severus Snape.

"At last. I rather thought you were still lying abed," he said, glaring at her.

Not in the least apologetic, Hermione glared right back. "I'm confident you weren't awake at the crack of dawn, as I was, Professor Snape, so please don't insinuate that I am lazy."

Not bothering to register her reply, he continued. "The Headmaster wishes to see you. I believe it's a matter of some urgency." Severus's eyes flicked over her appearance critically. "And your lack of sleep is quite visible, I do assure you Miss Granger."

Scowling at him, Hermione answered, "Tell him I'll be there in five minutes. I need to do something first."

"Tell him yourself." Severus turned and walked down the corridor.

Muttering the password, Hermione went back to the bedroom, glowering. "Bloody man…I'll give him 'lack of sleep'…."

Nothing had changed about her sneering Potions Master, obviously. He was still the irritating professor who deserved to be dunked headfirst into one of his own Shrinking Solutions.

Searching amongst the few belongings she'd brought with her, Hermione found a hair tie and scraped her tresses harshly back, hoping to tame them. Making sure her robes were straight, she left her quarters and headed down the dungeon corridor, in the direction Snape had gone.

"Ah, Miss Granger. I trust you slept well?" The old Headmaster turned from his conversation with McGonagall.

Hermione nodded quietly as she closed the office door behind her, choosing to not acknowledge the surly Potions Master who watched her entrance.

"I hope so, since I have a surprise for you that might take up quite a bit of your energy." Dumbledore gestured behind her, a tiny smile lighting up his face.

Questioning, Hermione turned around. Her gasp was clear.

When she had come in, her eyes had not come across the sofa near to the door. Sitting on it were two young men she barely recognised. Ron Weasley was grinning broadly now; the hint of doubt that had been there initially had completely disappeared. He was even taller she noticed, but now it was flattering but his hair was as flaming red as ever.

With a smaller smile, but looking just as happy, was Harry Potter. He got to his feet, no longer the pale, tense man she remembered from the last time she'd seen him, but slightly tanned and relaxed.

Hermione's observations were shoved aside as not one, but two pairs of arms were thrown around her. When she was at last given room to breathe, Ron started to shake his head in disbelief.

"I can't believe you're actually here…it's so…" He paused, studying her closely. "Why didn't you come back?" he asked softly, meeting her eyes so that she could not pull away from the question. Harry was also watching for her answer.

Dumbledore, sensing Hermione's discomfort, stepped forward. "Your questions will be answered later, I am sure, Mr Weasley…they will have to be, he added, his tone lower and more serious. "But I think breakfast is more in order now and then, a much more pressing matter," he glanced over at Severus who nodded briefly and went to leave.

Harry was watching them. "What's going on?" he asked frowning.

"You will be told in due course, Harry. Now, Miss Granger- tea?"

Hermione was in no mood for breakfast. She stood up slowly. "Professor Snape?" she said, halting the Slytherin from leaving. "What do you have in your hand?"

Immediately, all attention was directed to the piece of parchment in Severus's clenched hand.

Severus looked to the Headmaster, who sighed heavily. "We might as well get to it, then…even if it means cutting this reunion a little shorter than I'd hoped. If you could pass me that, Severus?" he asked, holding out his hand for the parchment.

Severus gave it to him.

"I received an…interesting owl from the Minister of Magic today. It seems as if he wishes to pay a visit to the school tomorrow, whilst 'the students are not around'."

Hermione listened, her apprehension growing. "Fudge…he's coming…here?"

Dumbledore nodded. "I would think nothing of it, except he seems far more jovial than usual and he is insistent on visiting as soon as possible. Cornelius rarely visits the school unless it is urgent."

He looked at Hermione. "I believe he has uncovered a matter of some urgency for the Ministry."

**A/N: **Thank you for all the lovely reviews, and I'm sorry for keeping you waiting. One word- exams. Lots of nasty ones with tricky questions that I was forced to endure. Anyway, it's the holidays now, and I'm ready to get back on it, and I know where it is going, surprisingly.

Two chapters of my Sakura back-story have been written and beta-d, so if you're interested in reading that, I'll be putting put a note in one of my updates.


	8. Hope and Need

Anam Cara 

****

**8. Hope and Need**

****

"I believe he has uncovered a matter of some urgency for the Ministry."

As Dumbledore's last line fell, Hermione stared dumbly at him. A chill began to climb steadily up her back, a feeling she recognised as paralysing panic.

"He knows…" she said in barely more than a whisper. "Oh God, he knows..."

Nobody in the room moved and as the realisation of what this meant grew, she took a few steps backwards, looking frantically at the Headmaster.

"I have to go…I can't stay here…" Hermione reached behind her for the door. She heard the click as it locked. Dumbledore watched her gravely.

"If this letter, Miss Granger, does in fact mean that Cornelius is planning to come here to seek you out, then under no circumstances can I allow you to leave like that.

"What?" Hermione stared at him, aghast. "I can't stay here!"

He nodded. "Indeed. But you must realise that the Minister will bring reinforcement. Your capture would be a great asset to him, and I fear he isn't about to let the opportunity slip out of his grasp."

"Aurors?" asked Harry, looking troubled. Ron was listening to the Headmaster and darting worried glances at Hermione who looked frozen.

Dumbledore nodded. "Only the very best."

Harry paused in thought. "They'll easily find your trail if you just leave, Hermione."

Ron spoke up. "So how do we hide her here?"

"I believe we have come up with a temporary but effective solution. Severus?"

The other people in the room turned in surprise. Up until now, the raven-haired Potions master had not strayed from his spot by the wall, never mind say anything.

Snape surveyed them all for a few moments and then he held up a book that Hermione hadn't seen before. "This book holds the majority of means of concealing one's self by magic. I have found a particular method that, although temporary, will suffice for this particular 'visit'."

"Hold on," broke in McGonagall, her eyes narrowed. "The Ministry holds tabs on all magical instruction and theory books…they use that type of text in Auror training. Surely they'll uncover one of those methods easily?"

Severus glared at her. "They would, if this wasn't a first edition which they know nothing about. Only a few were published when it was first written and several pages were removed before the next edition was printed."

Eyes wide, Hermione attempted to get a better look at the book. Snape saw her and surmised what she was trying to do. It seemed to take all of his resolve but he handed it to her, his face slightly pinched.

"Page one hundred and forty-nine. Paragraph three. I would not allow you to see this unless you needed to know the ritual. It is not my custom to let ex-students take books handed down in my family for generations for bedtime reading. Remember that."

Hermione glowered up at him. "First of all, Professor Snape, I find your use of the phrase 'bedtime reading' highly unnecessary. Secondly, I do need to know this 'ritual' if it's going to work so you needn't be so condescending about it." If anything ever injured her pride, it was insults to her intelligence and attitude to paper and ink. Leave it up to Severus Snape to make it his mission to do so. She gritted her teeth and continued to carefully thumb through the pages.

When she'd reached the page he'd instructed her to turn to, she quickly scanned the text and then looked up at Snape.

_"Occaegenus Reapse?" _she asked. "I've heard something like this before but never this exact spell."

"What does it do?" Harry questioned.

"Well, technically, it means a true need for invisibility, or to disappear," she said, hesitantly. "Is a wonderful spell for people wrongly accused of being criminals, I imagine. It needs to be cast by people who share a trust in one another, three at the least. Once carried out, it allows the person to slip past the gaze and magical tracking methods of those who hunt them for a certain amount of time, which is defined by the absolute truth behind it. You can be seen by the people you choose to reveal yourself to, nothing can reverse that, but nobody else."

"It sounds perfect," said Ron, nodding.

"I would think it is," Hermione answered. "Should I get my hopes up or not, Professor?" she asked Dumbledore.

The Headmaster was nodding in agreement with her. "Thank you Severus, this may be what we're looking for. Once I have found a permanent way of proving your innocence to the Ministry, this will do."

Looking slightly nervous but relieved, Hermione asked the only thing she needed to know now. "When do we carry it out?"

Pulling the book from her hands and snapping it shut, Snape answered "Tonight." 

Nodding curtly to the Headmaster, he left the room, the door slamming behind him.

"It's fairly simple," drawled Severus and he opened the book on the desk in front of him.

Hermione, Ron, Harry sat on stools in the Potions classroom before him. A space had been cleared for the ritual and swept clean by a house elf (watched reproachfully by Hermione.) It felt like they were in Potions class again. Harry and Ron looked distinctly agitated at being under the Slytherin's control again but looking at Hermione changed their minds.

She didn't look so relieved about this solution anymore. Her face and hands, folded in her lap, were whiter than they should have been. She was perched on the edge of the stool, with her legs crossed modestly. Her navy coloured robes were a little big for her; you could tell this was someone who wasn't exactly overweight. Harry wasn't sure if this was because of her ordeal or if she simply barely ate anymore. He'd watched her pick at her food before, but now he realised this might have been nerves.

Snape looked at Hermione. The girl was positively shaking. It couldn't be the ritual; he'd seen her perform far more complicated potions than this in his lessons. He settled on being the impending visit from the Ministry.

"You might try looking as if you're not about to spring from your chair and make a dash for it," he told her sharply. She jumped and then glared at him again. He was beginning to wonder if the Patented Severus Snape Death Glare had been stolen from right beneath his nose. She'd certainly directed her narrowed eyes at him enough times today. Not that he was averse to it, of course. He preferred a real opponent Hermione, rather than a weak and easy target Hermione. Pushing those angry looks of hers out of her pale face was far more satisfying.

Sighing, he pulled open one of his drawers and took out a package wrapped in purple. He walked quickly over to her and handed it over. She looked down at it and then looked back up at him.

"Chocolate?" she asked.

"Chocolate. Eat it. Having you fainting in the middle of this won't do any good. Besides, Dumbledore will be on my back in seconds if you do, not to mention that damned medi-witch."

When he returned to his desk, turning his back, Hermione raised an eyebrow, smiling inwardly. _How like him to do something remotely nice and blame it on someone else. _She carefully opened the wrapping and snapped a few pieces off and then naturally offered it to Harry and Ron who declined it.

"Snape's right," admitted Ron, looking as though it pained him to agree with him.

"Take some more of it. You look like you need it."

"But I'm fi-"

"Hermione." Ron's face was firm.

Doing as she was told, she took some more, but only a little, and then placed it behind her on one of the desks. Three pairs of eyes watched her. Resisting the temptation to roll her own, she bit into a piece.

Almost immediately some warmth returned to her body, spreading through her arms and chest and through her legs. Forgetting her reasons not to eat it, she ate the next chocolate chunk almost greedily. It had been a long time since she had something like this. Its creamy warmth was a foreign delight to her tongue and she closed her eyes for a moment, tasting it properly. Now she truly appreciated the appeal of Honeydukes.

Remembering she was still being watched, Hermione opened them, feeling embarrassed. But no one was laughing; Snape didn't even have a smirk on his face. They were dead silent and staring. Uncomfortable, she put down the rest of it and stood up.

"Shall we get to it, then?"

Snape stood up. "You know what you're doing, I suppose, having read it cover to cover?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes."

"Then take this," he handed her a jar of powdered Monkwort, "and prepare the circle."

She went to do as he had said, when he called her back. "Here's the robes." She looked at what he was holding up. A long white dress robe was hanging from his arm.

"It's necessary. White can define the truth, which is important here. You may change in my office after you've spread the powder. We'll be ready for you then."

**A/N: **Sorry for the wait, folks. I've been doing a bit more work on **I Don't Want To Be Alone **recently as my writer's block on that began to evaporate. Thank you for the great reviews. Oh, and also thanks for the several who wished me luck on my exams, it must have worked since I managed to achieve estimated grades for a initial acceptance to the college I want to go to. Now all I need to do is pass the real exams. Eek. 

Fudge is coming soon along with Draco…


	9. Hidden Faith

**9. Hidden Faith**

Hermione folded her borrowed robes neatly over a stiff-backed chair in Snape's office. Taking a minute to glance around his personal ingredients selection, she exhaled slowly and then turned to open the door.

"I'm ready," she heard herself say. Who did that voice belong to? Confidence masquerading the nerves that twisted in her stomach.

"So are we," replied Ron, as he filled up a bowl with water from a large, tin jug.

Snape stood up from where he'd been crouching on the floor and looked up at Hermione intently, unfalteringly with those unreadable eyes. Uncomfortable beneath his survey, she looked down to avoid his probing gaze

"Then we shall begin," he said. "It is a moderately simple ritual…even for you two." He glanced pointedly at Ron and Harry, both of whom glared. Hermione felt a little surprise. Snape had never used to miss a chance to group Hermione into their category.

"Now. Take the bowl, Mr. Potter. Drink from it and then pass it to Mr. Weasley, who will do the same. Then I shall drink from it. When I have done so, Miss. Granger, take the bowl from me and rinse your face and hands. This will ensure a bond of trust.

"Go ahead, Mr. Potter."

Harry picked up the deep bowl and then hesitated as it was on its way to his lips. He looked slowly up at Snape.

"Trust? Look, maybe it isn't such a good idea for you to-"

"Harry," interjected Hermione slowly. "It's okay." Her eyes met temporarily with Snape's and the other two in the room felt distinctly that there was something they hadn't been told. Hermione seemed almost embarrassed to look at Snape, but his black eyes were unfathomable, telling them nothing.

Harry lifted the bowl to his lips and took a slow sip of the cool water. Instantly he felt something connect. He passed the bowl to Ron and then took his place, crossing by Snape as he did so. Ron followed suit, drinking deeply and passing the bowl to Snape. He went to stand a little to the right of where he had been previously.

Snape drank very quickly and then nodded to Hermione. She took the bowl from him and went to kneel in the centre of the sprinkled circle of Monkwort, the others forming a triangle around her. Dipping her hands into the water, she shivered slightly. The liquid was freezing and the thin, white dress robes did little to keep cold air of the dungeon from her skin. Hermione brought her hands up to face and allowed the water to trickle down it. She closed her eyes and stayed kneeling.

Snape watched her as she took in a deep breath and began murmuring beneath her breath. Harry and Ron strained to listen the strange words they did not recognise. They only caught a few.

"Airidh…còir…ni 's. Soilleir…iarr…" 

Hermione fell silent and raised her head, eyes still tightly shut. This was her signal. As her last words fell, the three men standing around her felt the connection they'd sensed before tighten, sealing them more firmly in place.

They all picked up the small jars that had been placed near to each of them. As they held them, the ingredients inside glittered with strange, flickering lights, moving too quickly to truly tell their colour.

Snape spoke first.

"Earbsadh." He strode forward to Hermione, placing one long finger into the shimmering powder contained within his jar. He made a small line in the centre of her forehead with the dust. 

"_Mi bheir earbsadh a thu." _The mark immediately disappeared, seemingly into her skin. Hermione took in a deep breath. Snape stepped back into the triangle as Ron came forward.

_"Neart." _Ron went to Hermione and dipped his finger into his jar. He drew a line across her lips, with a thick liquid, glittering as brightly as the dust before.

_"Mi bheir neart a thu." _The oil vanished and Ron went back into the triangle, between Harry and Snape. Hermione shivered, but made no sound.

Harry stepped into the circle. He delved his hand into the jar, and clenched his fist so that his entire hand was coated in a strange, shining oil. He paused and looked down at his hand. _"Fìrinn."_

Steeling himself, he pressed it gently to her face. _"Mi bheir fìrinn a thu."_

Harry stepped away, leaving a large handprint staining her face. The other two men joined in with his gaze, watching her. Hermione didn't move, and after several moments Ron chanced a glance at Harry. Before he could say a word, however, there was a great flash of red and green light and Hermione and the room vanished, leaving a great looming darkness to settle upon them.

Severus awakened with a severe headache, and found, to his intense displeasure, that he happened to be lying on his classroom floor, robes thrown askew. He raised a hand to his forehead with a slight groan, and then, as he remembered what had happened, shot up.

Ron and Harry sat on a desk nearby, sharing a whispered conversation. When they saw that he had awoken, the slipped off the tabletop almost guiltily.

"Where is she?" he asked shortly, not willing to waste time.

"We don't know," said Ron, looking vexed. "Maybe something went-"

"Good," replied Snape and then noted their puzzled glance. "You do understand the point of this ritual? Or has that, like many other things, escaped your assuredly vacillating attention?"

"Look here-" began Ron, his cheeks and the tips of his ears turning red.

"Why look? There's no point until she decides to reveal herself, Mr. Weasley, or hadn't you grasped that fact yet?" Snape went over to where the shards of glass from the shattered jars lay. He waved his wand over the mess. "I don't suppose it would be to much trouble for you to help clean this up and take the surplus ingredients on my desk into the storeroom?"

Looking sullen at Snape's address, Ron went to the desk and began to gather up the various items there. Harry went to assist him.

As Snape cast another cleaning charm, his eyes narrowed to see any remaining splinters of glass between the stones, he started at the touch of a hand upon his shoulder. Whirling around, he felt an odd mixture of relief and annoyance.

"Miss Granger." Hermione looked back at him, emotionless and removed her hand. "The spell has worked, I assume?"

"Yes," she answered. "Where are Harry and Ron?"

"In the storeroom," said Severus. She nodded and went towards the door that he gestured to. On her way, she turned to look back, with an expression of what could only be silent thanks. A moment after she opened the door, there was two surprised voices. Severus replaced the wand in his pocket and headed from the classroom to inform Dumbledore that the spell had worked successfully. All they needed to do now was make it through the Ministry enquiry.

Which would be sooner than they expected. Outside the great front doors of Hogwarts, stood Cornelius Fudge and Draco Malfoy. Draco had a look of grim determination in his eyes, which was quite a comparison to the jovial Fudge. 

Leading the way, Draco pushed the door he remembered so well and stepped inside, holding it open courteously for the Minister.

Somebody clearing his or her throat caught his attention. Eyes narrowed, he turned his head. A broad grin appeared on his face.

"Uncle Severus."

**_A/N:_**_ Thank you for lots of lovely reviews :-) They made me smile. Which helps lately. I thought this ritual up during a French lesson and used an English-Gaelic dictionary for the words. Well aware something may not be correct, but unless you're a Gaelic expert, you get the gist of it._

_Earbsadh- Trust_

_Neart- Strength_

_Fìrinn- Truth_

Mi bheir a thu- I give to you 

**_Avery- _**_In reply to your review-  '__Awesome__ story but I got confused of why Hermione is being hunted. Like what did she do?' – If you can be bothered, I 'd suggest backtracking and re-reading Chapter 2. Hermione clothed herself in Death Eater garb to divert the Ministry's attention from the battle between Harry and Voldemort so that it could all finally be over. She was simply going to Stun them and then go back to the Order, labelled as 'just another Death-Eater', but the hood slipped from her face, and as she wasn't wearing the mask, the remaining Ministry workers saw her identity and there wasn't time to do a Memory Charm- the damage had already been done._

_I hope this answers your question and thank you for your review. On a further note, did anyone else feel confused by the plot? Please tell me if you did._

DistinctVagueness 


	10. Intrusion

**Anam Cara**

****

**10. Intrusion**

"Uncle Severus."

Hiding his surprise, Severus raked his eyes over the Malfoy before him. Draco was tall now, though he didn't match his own height, and was as lean as ever. His voice was the same cold drawl he remembered, but that was one of the only things reminiscent of the boy who had left Hogwarts several years past.

His flaxen hair was no longer slicked back neatly, light reflecting from its gel-induced gleam, but was a dirty blonde, trailing to his shoulders and unkempt. His face was pale and expressionless; his ice-blue eyes the only true colour that shone there. Severus felt a slight twinge at the sight of him. Draco Malfoy had become exactly what he hoped he wouldn't; a shell of a man, too much like himself to bear.

_What is his part in all of this?_

"Draco. What a pleasant surprise." He nodded to the boy. "And Minister. What brings you here?"

The Minister's cheery smile became somewhat frozen. "That's on a- er need-to-know basis at the moment, Severus. I sent a letter ahead to Dumbledore to inform his of my coming. I hope he will not be inconvenienced by my premature arrival."

_Liar,_ Severus thought, biting back the temptation to roll his eyes at the red-cheeked man. _I could see right though you even if I didn't know what was going on._

"I wouldn't think so."

"Be a good man and lead us to his office, then."

"Certainly, Minister." Severus forced his unwilling face into an oily smile as he began their path up the carpeted stairs.

"He's coming up the path," announced McGonagall peering out of one of high windows. 

"Early, as you expected, Albus. But there's someone…Good Merlin…it can't be. Why on earth is he here?"

Dumbledore joined her at the window, adjusting his half-moon spectacles. When the tall, blonde man walking with long, determined steps beside Cornelius Fudge came into view, he raised an eyebrow.

"Ah. Mr Malfoy. This may complicate matters…"

"You think he was the one who discovered Miss Granger's whereabouts?"

"More than certainly. I have been following his tracks for a while now, Minerva," Dumbledore ran his long fingers through his white beard thoughtfully. "Young Mr Malfoy seems to have had a vendetta against her for a while now. Since what he considers his greatest error."

"Killing his father was a triumph wasn't it? Surely, he isn't-"

"I am not speaking of that, Minerva. Mr Malfoy's deed was something that impacted him far more than Lucius ever did."

Minerva didn't answer, but narrowed her eyes, pressing him to speak.

"You heard, I presume, of the death of a young Muggle girl in the war, a Charlotte West?"

"Well, of course, Albus, but she was just one of many who were caught in midst of it."

"No," answered the Headmaster, shaking his head gravely. "No, indeed. Draco had returned to the Death-Eaters, at the Ministry's request, as not to arouse suspicion. He was working from within and at the final battle intended to turn fire on many of Voldemort's followers, under the ruse that they were slain by our side. Of course, in the heat of the fight, he was acting impulsively, his wand a mere extension of his own anger. Anger often clouds one's mind, Minerva, and when Miss West, attempting to escape from her cloaked captors, fled, he simply aimed and paid later. He has never forgiven himself, though he was privately cleared of all charges."

Minerva stared quietly at him. "I never knew," she said, simply. "But that doesn't tell me why he wishes to destroy Hermione."

"Every last member of the Death-Eater's was hunted down and destroyed by Aurors; many defeated by their own bravado and an attempt at becoming another Dark Lord."

"Hermione was the only one left remaining," finished Minerva. "Draco sees the Death-Eater's as the cause of his constant self-hate…which would make her his ultimate target."

"Yes. We have protected her well enough for now...but until we take further measures, we have no guarantee that he won't find her. There's no doubt that he knows she's here, it's just a matter of time. I fear mostly for him; if he hurts another innocent, he may not be able to live with himself."

Minerva began to think, her hawk-like eyes trained over his shoulder in deliberation. "We need to get him away from Fudge. Severus should be the one to convince him. Offer him concrete evidence that Hermione is not an ex-Death-Eater." She walked over to the window again, her brow furrowed

"Indeed. Perhaps his Pensieve-"

Minerva's voice stopped him. "Albus?"

"Yes?"

"Am I right in my idea of who is out there?" she nodded towards the Dark Forest, her thin lips pursed.

Dumbledore looked out in her direction. "If your guess was Aurors, then you are correct. Fudge hasn't chosen the most secure method of scouring the castle if I can see his plan from my own window."

Out in the darkness of the grounds, several shadows shifted from beside the frost covered trees. The rustling in the grass was not that of the wind, it was of crouched figures, watching the castle.

"You must do what you can to remove Severus and Draco from the room when he arrives and find Hermione. She may be invisible but we cannot take any chances now Fudge is here. If we can convince Draco, then we can eliminate the Ministry's presence from Hogwarts."

Minerva nodded. "I'll go now." She turned to the door and turned the golden handle, only to take a step back as it opened slowly inwards. She looked back round at the Headmaster.

"The Minister is here to see you, Albus," she said, her eyes concealing her surprise.

Dumbledore imitated her calm. "Send him in Minerva."

Professor McGonagall stepped back to allow Fudge, Draco and Severus to enter.

"Good evening Cornelius. I trust you are well? I was rather taken aback at your owl. Your visits are only usually bestowed upon us in term time, if at all."

"I have my reasons for being here, Albus."

"If I may," the three men looked to McGonagall who had interrupted. "There was something I needed to speak to Severus about concerning the new school year. If you wouldn't mind, I need to take him from your company, Minister."

Fudge surveyed her closely. "New school year?" he repeated.

"Yes. There has been a conflict with some of the letters sent to Muggleborns which must be resolved immediately."

The Minister exhaled slowly, and then adjusted his yellow bowler hat, that took great restraint for her not to cringe at. "Very well. I would like to speak you though, Severus."

Severus feigned mild curiosity. "Then I shall not take long, Minister."

Both Head of Houses turned to leave.

"If you don't mind," said Draco softly. "I shall accompany you."

Severus almost frowned as Minerva nodded acceptance.

The three left Dumbledore's office and set off down the staircase.

"So Hagrid can inform the students of the change when they arrive?"

"I suppose so," answered Minerva. "You don't need to stay any longer, Severus. I can sort these out and take them to the Owlery now."

Severus nodded and shut the door to Minerva's study, Draco following him out. Without being conspicuous, she had managed to tell him that it was vital for Draco to be convinced of the truth, through the pretence of a school-related dilemma.

"We can return to Fudge now, if that is what you wish," he told his god-son who had been unnervingly quiet all the while.

Draco paused by the end of the staircase they were taking to lead them back to the Headmaster's office. He ran a pale hand over the ugly, inanimate gargoyle that sat there, his eyes roaming the corridor restlessly.

"I wonder, Uncle," he answered. "If we could postpone that journey. We need to talk, if only briefly. In your office, perhaps?" His blue eyes scanned Severus, as if waiting for him to suggest if would be better to return upstairs.

The elder Slytherin waited a moment before answering. "Lead the way," he relied, gesturing with one hand towards the dungeons.

**A/N: **Thanks a lot for all of your reviews and I'm sorry I've kept you waiting- I've had a lot of technical issues and have been able to type anything up recently. I hope this has been resolved. If anyone's interested, I'm still writing the Sakura back-story on the side- three chapters are done, two beta-d, and I'm hoping to start posting once I've written four.


	11. Clarity

**11. Clarity**

"Tempest-tossed," spoke Severus softly and watched as the grey bricks disappeared, revealing a handsome mahogany door. He twisted the silver handle and pushed it open.

Draco followed him in, his blue eyes flickering about the room, from the dark grain-patterned floorboards to the sparse ceiling. Severus didn't fail to notice the thin smirk that spread slowly across his features.

"Nothing's changed, just as I expected."

"I find I like to retain some degree of constant normalcy in my life."

The elder Slytherin gestured to the two leather-backed chairs that were placed before the hearth. "Something to drink?"

"If you wouldn't mind," answered the blonde, before settling himself into one of the chairs and putting his godfather under further scrutiny. "What do you have?"

Severus opened the small cabinet next to his bookcase, pushing a bottle of expensive Cabernet to the back. "Gillywater?" he asked, holding up the slim, green bottle.

Draco snorted in amusement. "Only McGonagall drinks that stuff, Severus. Give me a bit of respect and pull out your Christmas leftover Firewhiskey."

"May I enquire as to how you knew I hadn't finished the bottle?" asked Severus, arching an eyebrow, as he reluctantly fished it out and poured them both a glass.

"Remember our Quidditch victory parties? I don't think you've ever brought yourself to finish a bottle in the holiday season. Always came in handy if we could get into your office."

"Ah, yes. I think I recall an intoxicated Millicent Bulstrode insisting that I was her best friend all the way to the Infirmary."

"She didn't come to Potions for a week after that."

Severus allowed himself a slight chuckle. "How have you been, Draco? The last time I saw you was at the Ministry, back in August, wasn't it." He took a long sip of his drink, feeling its warmth resonate at the back of his throat.

"It was," replied Draco, ignoring his first question. "But I haven't the time to exchange pleasantries, I'm afraid."

"You haven't the time? What's the rush?"

The younger man sighed. "I want to get straight to the point, Severus."

"Then please do so."

Draco regarded him impatiently. "You know why I am here."

"Do I?"

Malfoy's eyes narrowed. "Don't play the fool with me."

Severus held up his hands, barely concealing a forged grin. "Please tell me what it is I'm supposed to have done, for I'm sure I don't know."

"Severus, things will be much easier if you can just own up and let me sort everything out. The Minister's gunning to get you done for something."

"And what does he want to get me 'done' for?"

"Harbouring a known and dangerous criminal."

Severus feigned amusement and began to speak, but his godson cut him off. "Do you have _any _idea how frustrating this is? I _know_ you have her. You are hiding Hermione Granger in this castle, Severus, and I intend to find her."

Expressionless, Severus replied. "Indeed. And then what?"

"Pay myself back something she's owed me for a long time now. _My life._I might have survived, Severus, but it doesn't feel like it. I've been following her for years now, picking up every scrap of evidence that she's left behind, tracking her to place after place. She's the only thing that stops me from being alive again, Severus. Until she's dead, I can't rest. I've eliminated every fragment of what obscured my life before, but she's slipped from my grasp yet again. And you…_you_ are the one to assist her."

"You are correct on one count, Draco. I am hiding Hermione Granger within these walls."

Draco inclined forwards, his eyes keenly trained on the man before him. Severus noticed his pale fingers gripping the soft, malleable arms of the chair.

"But you are incorrect on another. Miss Granger is in this castle, Draco, but she is not, and never was, a servant of the Dark Lord."

After surveying his godfather through tightening eyes, Draco rose steadily from his chair. Not willing to lose control of the situation, Severus also stood up, ensuring his eyes never retracted from his godson's unwavering gaze. The two Slytherins stood in silence until Draco began to laugh. There was no mirth in his blue eyes; the resonance was hollow and empty.

"You always favoured her above all others, didn't you? I knew it…no matter how many times you ridiculed her cruelly or put her and her House down…you wanted her to better everyone else. Every insult, every cutting remark…it was only to push her into proving you wrong."

"I believe you were making a point, Draco?" Severus answered, neither affirming nor denying the accusation.

"You're blind, Uncle Severus. There was a time you didn't trust a soul…not even Dumbledore. But _she_ turns up on your doorstep and you bring her to Hogwarts for _protection," _Draco snarled.

"Certain actions commit a trust in me and from me, Draco. I ask you not to follow my past misgivings. That was when I was blinded."

"You-"

"I wasn't finished," cut in Severus smoothly. "You are the one who is blinded now. From anger that you won't let rest. Anger that is undeserved upon Miss Granger. But nobody who matters holds you in contempt, Draco- only yourself. So I ask you to sit down and listen."

A firm, but heavy hand on Draco's shoulder silenced the man's heated attempts to speak.

"I said sit _down." _Severus's tone indicated no room for refusal. Under duress, Draco sank back down.

"Good. I only ask you to remain silent until I have finished. You may say or do whatever you wish, but only when I am done. Understood?"

Defiantly, Draco stared back at the man who had been his mentor. This wasn't supposed to be happening. Six years past and the Head of Slytherin's voice still commanded him in a way no-one else's had. He doubted many would repudiate his orders after they were delivered in such a quiet but dangerous voice. Least of all, though he hated to admit it, him.

Severus walked the length of the room, pausing to gaze out of the small window that gave a view of the murky depths of the lake. With his back turned, he began to speak.

"You have not been the only person to search in vain for Miss Granger, though you were the one with most luck. Under the effects of an adapted Unplottable Charm, she managed to escape the eyes of the Order and, most strangely, Albus Dumbledore. You, however, managed to track her down before her trail was impossible to uncover.

"When Miss Granger arrived on the doorstep of Snape Manor…surprised is hardly the word I would use to describe my reaction. Undoubtedly she never meant to call upon me. If she'd had her chance, I assume she would have Apparated away, or ran, if her legs could carry her. She simply didn't have the strength."

"So you brought a runaway Death-Eater back to Hogwarts, believing some sob story of innocence?" broke in Draco, scathingly. "How Gryffindor of you Uncle Severus."

"I'd rather proceed in telling you just how misinformed you are without the constant interruptions. Cast your mind back to the night the Dark Lord was slain. A new Death-Eater arose that day in the Ministry's eyes, and if she had not, his reign wouldn't have been ended. What servant of the Dark Lord would perform such a task?"

Severus turned from the wall to face Draco. "Perhaps not a servant at all? Perhaps a foolishly self-sacrificial Muggle-born who acted on impulse as a means to an end?"

Draco shook his head, a slight smirk on his face. "You seem to have procured a talent for weaving lies, Uncle."

"Lies? Would you agree that memories are truths?"

"If not tampered by feelings, yes."

"Then allow me to show you what you did not see." Severus crossed over to his desk and opened a cupboard. He pulled out a small Pensieve.

In his stomach, Draco could feel a worm of insecurity squirming slowly. He shifted slightly. The firm resolution on the Head of Slytherin's face unnerved him- the look Snape had always worn when he'd tested one of Longbottom's potions to create embarrassment. The look of utmost certitude.

A silvery mist floated dreamily within the bowl. Severus placed it on the desk and nodded to Draco. "I, along with others, have perused this memory countless times. I invite you to do the same."

For one of the rare moments of his life, Draco hesitated. Something told him that this was going to change everything. Then he realised, he'd rather live by the truth, no matter what it was, than be blinded. As he walked to the desk and bent his head towards the Pensieve, a tiny shred of his being desperately wanted this to prove nothing, prove that the only truth he'd known for six years was real, but he was won over by the need to leave everything else behind.

Severus watched as his godson gradually pulled his head from the Pensieve and decline from meeting his eyes. Draco stood stone still for a few moments, never facing him. Then he spoke softly.

"Where is she?"

As he said the words, Draco could feel the impact of what he'd just seen, sinking into him. What she'd done…what she'd sacrificed…what he'd have done if he'd found her first. As he stared unmoving at the wall, he felt a soft touch on his shoulder. At once, he shrugged it off, wanting no part of his godfather's company. As he glanced fleetingly at the hand which had touched him, he froze. The hand was not Severus's; large, pale and calloused, but petite and feminine. His breathing suddenly shallow, he turned.

"Hello Draco."

**A/N:** Thank you for all the reviews. I apologise for the long lack of updates but I have huge technical problems, such as being hit by a Blaster worm, getting a new OS and only being able to access the computer for 20 minutes every hour. I hope this makes up for it.


	12. Flawed

Anam Cara 

****

**12. Flawed**

****

"Hello Draco."

Draco shot backwards as if hit by a sudden jolt of electricity, putting his hands onto the desk behind him for support. His blue eyes were wide and staring. Hermione's arm slipped back to her side as she regarded him steadily. It seemed that he was incapable of speech, so she filled in for him.

"You look awful," she said simply, without a smile. "Another time and place and that would have made my day."

"You…I'm…" Tentatively, Draco reached out, his fingers coming into contact with her robes. Without meaning to, Hermione flinched slightly. He withdrew his hand immediately.

"This is too much…I need to think." Without warning, Draco walked in a rush to the door and it slammed shut behind him.

Hermione gazed after him, her forehead creased in sudden worry.

"You don't think he's going to Fudge, do you?" she asked a thoughtful Severus.

Slowly, he shook his head, his eyes leaving the door.

"No. He believes what he has seen. If I know Draco, the Minister will be the last person he wishes to see right now."

"Do you?" questioned Hermione.

Severus turned, finally focusing his attention. "Pardon?"

"Do you? Know him I mean."

"I used to think I did. In fact, I'm sure I have the best chance of understanding him of anyone here.

"Draco Malfoy, you must understand, is not the same boy you once knew, Miss Granger. Certain…events have changed him."

"I know," she answered quietly. His black eyes raked over her in query. She continued.

"I know what happened…what he did. It may appear that I was totally oblivious to what was happening here, but at the beginning, when I first left, I managed to hear a couple of things.

"Of course, it was all high profile then. The-Boy-Who-Lived had conquered the Dark Lord once and for all. Anything remotely connected to the war was splashed across wizarding newspapers. When the son of the late Lucius Malfoy is behind a Muggle's death, it's only natural for the press to have a field day."

"There was justifiable reason for his actions, Miss Granger."

"Of course there was. If I didn't know that, don't you think I would have stayed hidden from him?"

"You would have hated him even if he had redeemed himself?"

Hermione looked at him and then glanced away. "I don't know. But that isn't the point. I know Draco didn't mean to kill her."

"But he has yet to forgive himself."

She didn't answer. Both remained in silence for a few minutes and he watched as she worried her bottom lip in thought. Eventually, Severus straightened himself.

"My being here is a waste of my precious time now," he said curtly. "I trust you won't miss my presence if I continue some of my work?"

She raised an eyebrow. "How ever will I cope?"

Severus turned to the door, which she assumed was his lab.

"I'm going for a walk," she said quickly. He gave her a warning look, which she shook off.

"I won't be long and I'll go unnoticed, I assure you."

As she slipped through the office door quietly and out into the dungeons, the troubled look that spread across his features escaped her.

Draco plucked a blade of grass from the soil and studied it closely before letting it blow away on the breeze. He wasn't sure why he'd come to sit by the lake but it seemed just as good as any other place to go right now. He watched as the wind picked up again and stirred the surface of the water. The ice had mostly melted now and the only reminder of the snow was the muddy earth underneath him.

"Aren't you cold?"

He stiffened when he recognized the voice and didn't answer. Instead, he stared out across the lake, giving no sign that he had heard her.

Moments passed until she tentatively sat down herself. "It's a pity the snow's melted…it was so thick yesterday morning." Draco could tell by her voice that she couldn't stand the way she was talking. As if they were friends…as if they had been friends. He turned his head slowly to look at her. She was gazing in the direction of the Forbidden Forest, shivering slightly in the cold and her cheeks tinged pink. Seeing her more closely now, Draco realized how thin she was, as if she had lost a lot of weight in a short time.

Before today this was how he'd wanted to see her. He'd wanted to come across her living as low as an escaped Death-Eater should do, skeletal, pale and alone, in the dark corner of some hovel, just waiting to be caught. Hermione Granger was not in that position, but she certainly didn't look like the girl who had left Hogwarts five years ago.

Her quiet voice broke up his thoughts. "Though you caught up with me a few times, I only saw you once." Her brown eyes didn't meet his but looked down instead.

"Calais," he answered.

Hermione nodded. "If it helps, you terrified me that night. I couldn't relax even when the ferry left and I glimpsed your hair in the crowd at the dock."

"It doesn't help. Not now." Draco let out short laugh. It sounded hollow and false. "If I had seen you, the first words on my mind would have been…" He broke off and stared directly at her.

"I wanted to kill you, Granger. It was all I could think of. And for once, it wasn't some juvenile hatred of you that was driving me. I had a reason. Motivation. I wanted to choke the life from you, stamp out your kind forever. And it was worse because your 'kind' wasn't anything to do with Muggleborns anymore.

"You were the only thing stopping me from having my life back again."

_Liar._

As Hermione listened, she tried her best to understand what he was saying but somehow his words drove her to anger again. She knew he was probably confused and at a loss to know what to do next, but it didn't help.

"I'm sorry," she said, controlling her anger. "I'm sorry you've been torturing yourself like this, Draco. _But it's not my fault._" She felt her eyes begin to sting but she blinked all weakness away.

"I _know_," he answered softly, but Hermione, shaking her head, didn't hear him.

"It feels like I've been to hell and back too… I thought I was doing something brave, something for the Order. I was going to get Harry through the final fight but I wasn't supposed to pay the price for doing it! Now I'm back here -against my initial plan- and I'm in hiding again! I came out here to ask you to give me time, to take the Minister away until we'd found a solution…but there's no point. Not really. They'll find me. The spell will wear off- it cannot be performed again."

Abruptly Hermione broke off when she realized she'd gripped Draco by the arms during her invective. Stranger still, he hadn't pushed her away or told her to remove her hands. His emotionless blue eyes were trained on her.

"If it wasn't for you, Potter would have died. The Dark Lord would have won."

"And I'd either be dead or in hiding. Seems to me that nothing would change my life that greatly either way."

"You made a difference, Granger."

Hermione snorted in derision. "Say that again and mean it. You're still punishing yourself but everyone else says you 'made a difference.' Even Fudge believes it."

"Fudge is an idiot."

Hermione shrugged. "Doesn't matter." She released her hold on his arms.

Draco's gaze flickered away for a moment before it returned. "No…it doesn't," he answered slowly. He stood up.

"I think I'll go back inside now."

Hermione got up too. "That might be a good idea," she said, more to herself than the man beside her. Together they made their way across the grounds and back to the castle.

From a window in the Headmaster's office, Albus Dumbledore watched out of the corner of his eye as a seemingly alone Draco walked the path to the castle entrance.

"Good," he murmured as he turned from the window.

"What's good?" questioned Fudge from his seat.

"Your young protégé, Mr. Malfoy. He appears to have finished surveying my grounds."

"Hmm? Oh, of course." Fudge looked a little confused. He had been waiting for his Aurors to perform that job. He had strategically placed them in the Forest to move in when ready.

The door to the office suddenly opened and Professor McGonagall looked in. She nodded discreetly to the Headmaster before the Minister turned around.

"Ah, Minerva…I was just wondering- would you mind terribly taking a message to Hagrid? Firenze wanted to have a word with him about certain places of habitation in the Forest. He hoped it wouldn't cause a stir with his past companions, but he is willing to do so if it means another chance. He trusted that our gamekeeper might be able to negotiate the matter."

If McGonagall was confused, she didn't show it. "Of course, Albus." The door closed.

"What was that about, Dumbledore?"

"Oh, nothing of importance. Just a trivial school concern. Our relations with the centaurs of the Forest have been sparse since our Divination teacher left them and we hope to at least partially mend the rift, if possible." Dumbledore smiled.

"Sherbet lemon?"

**A/N: **Your reviews make me want to dance around like a mad person. I know I'm not the most fabulous authoress you'll ever come across on here, but it feels great knowing you've spent your time to read my efforts. Big hugs and chocolate frogs (It _is_ Easter…)

Lol at **JustJeanette** – yes, it is indeed a great way to avoid RSI. But it is also a way of getting replaced if you're my PC. Thankfully, I sent it to the shop instead and it is now back, remastered, virus-free and shielded with many layers of virus protection.

I just want to note that although my PC is now working again, I have an extreme workload and exams coming up. I'll do what I can to update, but I'm not promising anything. Once summer comes, I'll be free as a bird. 


	13. Disclosure

**Anam Cara**

****

**13. Disclosure**

****

The door to the Headmaster's office slowly opened. Draco entered and after a brief nod at Dumbledore in way of greeting, he turned to his employer. 

"Minister, I'm afraid…I'm afraid I have made a terrible mistake." His blonde head bowed slightly.

Cornelius Fudge frowned. "What are you talking about, Malfoy?"

Draco exhaled slowly, taking time over his answer. "She is not in the castle, Minister."

Fudge laughed. "Surely you didn't expect to be able to find her so easily? You've played your part in this enough, I have others to carry out that task, as well you know." Through his small smirk, he missed the similar expression on the old Headmaster's face, which disappeared as instantly as it had emerged. 

Draco shook his head. "You misunderstand me. She is not in Hogwarts and hasn't been since she finished her education here. When I saw her on Christmas Eve…it seems it wasn't exactly _her._"

"Then who the devil could it have been, Malfoy?" demanded Fudge disbelievingly, frustration creeping into his tone.

Draco cleared his throat uncomfortably. "That's another thing. I get the impression that Professor Snape had a female 'visitor' this holiday season. I mistook her for Granger because of her appearance…not exactly high maintenance."

Fudge stared at him. "You thought some girlfriend of Snape's was the Death-Eater we've been searching for for five years?"

"I didn't say 'girlfriend', Minister," said Draco, raising an eyebrow in meaning.

"So you're telling me Snape hired a prostitute?" There was a suspicious snort from the Headmaster at this point. Fudge looked at him charily. "Interesting piece of news about your Potions Professor, Dumbledore. Perhaps you will want to look into that?"

"I believe I shall," answered Albus seriously.

Fudge turned back to Draco. "How do you know this? I hardly think Snape would have told you this…perhaps he was lying to cover up?" His round face lit up as if he had been hit by some stroke of genius.

The Slytherin shook his head. "I slipped Veritaserum into his drink. He told me everything I wanted to know…and some things I'd really rather not. Needless to say, his answers were very disappointing. I apologise for my severe misjudgement, Minister, and for wasting your time on another loose end."

Fudge didn't reply. First he looked across to Dumbledore who was innocently staring out of the window, and then back at Draco. His eyes narrowed and he regarded the young man in front of him very carefully.

Draco tried his best to look suitably abashed but not too avoiding of the Minister's eyes. If his quickly formulated ploy worked, he'd have plenty of time afterwards to work out how to turn the whole situation around. If it didn't, well, Hermione was still invisible to both the Minister and the Aurors he knew were on the outskirts of the Forest. That would buy her some time, but not much.

However, Fudge didn't have the chance to give his verdict; there was a loud shout from outside, followed by a discord of startled voices.

"Oh dear," said Dumbledore from his place by the window. "I'd hoped Hagrid wouldn't cause too much of a stir with- Good Merlin! Did you know there were Aurors at Hogwarts, Minister?"

"What!" Fudge ran to the window, with surprising speed, adjusting the ridiculously large hat as he did so.

"There must be ten of them…did you know about this Minister?"

Fudge's face was turning redder by the second. "I told them to stay at the edge of the Forest…after that incident with Umbridge…never the same again…" His head whipped around to face Dumbledore. "It's that bloody gamekeeper! You sent Minerva to…you sent him! You've set those damned centaurs on my Aurors!"

Dumbledore looked quite taken aback. "I haven't done any such thing, Cornelius. But I wish you hadn't taken such extreme measures upon my school without informing me- I could have told you that since Firenze made his opinion known among his kind, there has been dissention between the centaurs of the Forest and any wizard who enters there."

"Don't be ridiculous, Albus! You've made this entire story up just to keep me from finding Granger! I had more than one person confirming she was in Britain- she had to come here sooner or later."

"I assure you, there is no possible way that I could tell the centaurs to do anything. Why, the mere thought of them allowing anyone to command them to-" 

"Who else were you talking to?" asked Draco slowly.

Fudge whirled around. "You'd like me to tell you that, wouldn't you?" A nasty smile crept upon his lips. "You've been a good source up to now, Malfoy, but it's obvious they've got to you too." He came closer to Draco. "You looked so satisfied with yourself when you said you'd found her…I'll never forget that look. And now you say she's not here and give me some pathetic lie they've fed you?"

He turned to Dumbledore. "I'll be going now. Be assured that the next time I come, Granger _will_ be discovered and I'll be very glad to know what favours she pulled to get your assistance."

"Minister-"

Fudge revolved slowly from his trip to the door. "Good day, Dumbledore. And Malfoy- perhaps you would like to return to your old office tomorrow morning? I believe the paperwork there is piling up considerably." With that, he left.

Draco let out a low growl under his breath before looking to Dumbledore. The old man smiled gently.

"I have no doubt you will cause Severus with much displeasure at what the rumour mill will begin churning out about him soon…but you have bought Miss Granger much needed time for us to conceal her whereabouts."

Draco nodded briefly. "Do you have anywhere in mind?"

"There might be somewhere…" answered Dumbledore thoughtfully. "But we must discuss this with the woman concerned. First though, would you mind taking the Floo to The Burrow? I imagine two worried young gentlemen will wish to take part in this decision."

Draco grimaced at his destination but went to the fireplace. After taking a handful of powder, he threw it into the fire that was already burning there.

"I'll be back shortly."

Severus stared at Dumbledore.

"He told Fudge _what?"_

"I do believe you heard me the first time, Severus."

The Slytherin opened his mouth in fury again and then was silenced by the sound of stifled laughter.

"Pray tell us what is so funny, Miss Granger?"

Hermione bit her lip and shook her head, badly concealing her mirth. "I'm sorry…it's nothing…just the thought of me being a-"

Snape let out a sound of disgust. "Draco always did have a colourful imagination. I suspect this was a jab at me as well as an interesting cover story."

"Unfortunately, it didn't work."

Hermione stopped laughing from her chair by Severus's desk.

"What do you mean 'it didn't work'?" she demanded of Dumbledore. "He didn't believe him?"

"I must admit, I was rather surprised myself. Cornelius has never been the most perceptive of wizards."

Severus snorted. "That's an understatement."

"We are not here to debate the Minister's intelligence, Severus. Once Draco arrives with Messrs Potter and Weasley, we can begin."

At that point there was the sound of muffled voices outside.

"Will you _please_ tell me why we're here in the first place? And in the dungeons no less? _What_ is going on? And why is _he _here?" The woman outside was clearly very frustrated with her companions.

She had no answer until the people inside the office heard Draco clearly state the password. The door appeared again and there was a short knock for politeness before it was opened.

"You're not telling me this is-" Ginny Weasley marched in only to come to an abrupt stop at whom she saw there. Severus raised one nonchalant eyebrow.

"Good afternoon, Miss Weasley."

From her seat, Hermione gave a very audible gasp.

"P-Professor, I didn't realise- Hermione!" The redhead's mouth fell open and she stared in abject disbelief before running forward and giving the brunette a hug, which could have choked the life from her.

There was a very sudden mood change the moment she released her.

"Where the hell have you been?" Ginny's face took on a Molly Weasley expression.

Hermione didn't know what to say. As she stared at her friends face dumbly for a few moments, she realised Harry and Ron were both there too.

"That question can wait a bit, Gin," Harry said quietly before taking her hand and giving her a small smile. It was then Hermione noticed the ring on Ginny's left hand.

"He married you?" she whispered, still staring at the ring.

Ginny smiled shyly. "Almost three years," she answered. Her tone was quiet but Hermione could hear the happiness in it.

"I don't know what to say…I knew you were married, Harry, but to Ginny?" Suddenly she looked over to Snape.

"Why did you call her Miss Weasley?"

Severus neither smiled nor frowned. "Do you find the element of surprise overrated now, Miss Granger?"

A queer expression spread over her face as they regarded each other. Hermione's face then broke into a wide grin and she reached forward to give them both Harry and Ginny a hug in turn. "I know it's overdue, but congratulations."

"You should also know that I'm an uncle," said Ron, standing to one side and watching them with an embarrassed but happy expression. Hermione turned to give him a hug.

"Her name's Kate Hermione Potter," Ginny said, watching her friend's reaction carefully. "Five months old."

Tears sprung to Hermione's eyes. "I've missed so much…" she murmured. Ron hugged her tighter.

"And I've missed you," he said softly. Nobody else in the room heard him but Hermione felt a burst of warmth inside her as he voiced the words. It didn't really occur to her at that moment just what they could imply.

It did occur to the dark man standing alone in the corner, however. Before Hermione began any wonderings about her supposed future, it would be best she knew what lay in front of her. Severus cleared his throat. The four young people in the middle of the room turned to look at him.

"Perhaps it is time to discuss your idea, Headmaster?"

Before Dumbledore could reply, the door reappeared again and McGonagall came in. She looked calm but grave as she addressed him.

"She will come tonight, Albus."

"Thank you for contacting her, Minerva. I was just going to begin."

The Transfiguration teacher took the only seat left vacant. "Then let's hear it, Albus."

**A/N: **Thank you for the excellent response to the last chapter, it took me a while to write Draco's reaction. In comparison to other updates, this is very good timing for me, but I can't promise more soon. My next new update will probably be for **I Don't Want To Be Alone **when I find the chance to get on it.

The next part of the story will begin in the next chapter- things will start to move along then and eventually getting to the fact that this is an HG/SS story.

**Babyred: **I have posted this at LordandLadySnape along with all my other HG/SS's so feel free to check it out there instead if you want to. :)


	14. Plans

**Anam Cara**

****

**14. Plans**

Albus surveyed the room in front of him. There sat Minerva, sitting as stiffly as always, thin hands folded neatly in her lap. She was gazing at him expectantly, with the same respect that had always shone there, since her days at Hogwarts, since they… Albus refrained from smiling.

His eyes flickered to the Potters. Harry was leaning against the desk, his hand clasped tightly by his wife. Ginny glanced up at her husband and they shared a smile, a familiar tinge of pink spreading across her cheeks.

By Harry stood Ron. He had grown into his height now, and was sturdy and broad. His flaming hair contrasted sharply with his paler skin, an everlasting mark of his family name. His arms were crossed firmly over his chest and his eye frequently looked over to the woman sitting by him.

Hermione looked to him now and again, sharing a small smile. Then she would look to himself. And then…Albus watched as her dark eyes lingered on two specific people; the shadow of a man standing resolutely in his corner, and the blonde shell. Draco was staring straight at him, blue eyes prepared, but obdurate.

Minerva cleared her throat and Dumbledore snapped out of his silence.

"Firstly, if you wouldn't mind, Mrs. Potter, I am going to dismiss what has happened in the last day or so for everyone who has been here. I'm sure your husband will give you the details."

Ginny nodded.

"It's painfully clear that the Minister intends on returning to Hogwarts. We have no idea when, and-"

Ron broke in. "Aren't the Ministry required to send a message prior to visiting? I mean, we could catch them on that-"

Dumbledore shook his head. "I wish it were that simple. It is usually requisite that the Ministry send us fair notice, but in cases such as these, we can't base anything on that 'rule'.

"I gather you all realise we have to come up with a more efficient way of hiding Miss Granger until we can prove her innocence. With the help of Minerva, I believe I have come up with a solution that is adequate." He looked to her.

Minerva nodded and stood up.

"After the war, you may remember there was a great deal of new property on the wizarding market, families emerging after a few years of disappearance selling their temporary homes. Homes that had been hidden to all eyes, except the rightful owners.

"The charm required for this must be registered through the Ministry and performed by a qualified professional. Basically, though you are in 'hiding', the Ministry has tabs on you at all times and may withdraw the charm whenever they deem fit. During the rise of V-Voldemort, this was obviously a problem for families who were at risk of being affected by his wrath. A safe place to hide couldn't ever be truly guaranteed and the process of Abstrudo Domus, for that is the charm, is costly. So, inevitably, there was only one other option for those not ready to trust the Ministry."

"Black market…" said Hermione without thinking. Instantly all eyes were upon her. "And blacker than Knockturn Alley, I expect."

McGonagall nodded. "Of course. But after the war, many thought it unnecessary and there was suddenly an abundance of 'discovered' property on the market and those that were hidden blended themselves slowly back into society. I suspect that there are also some who choose to remain concealed.

"Now, you may wonder what this has to do with me. I myself have never seen fit to hide myself away, but perhaps that is just my situation being as it is. I have a sister. About twenty years ago she simply…disappeared. We had never been especially close, but I sought after her, to no avail. Anyone she'd ever met claimed they had never known her. I gave up in the end. My sister is rather erratic in her personalities. One minute she wants to be the centre of attention, the next, she decides she wants to leave this world behind." McGonagall gave a disapproving sniff.

Five years later, she re-appeared again. I received an owl from a friend of hers, informing me that she had returned from her long holiday. The very same friend that declared she had never heard of her. Disconcerted, I visited her home and questioned her about her whereabouts. She repeated what I'd already been told and acted as if it was nothing of great importance.

"Eventually, I gave up on asking her and returned to Hogwarts. A few years later, the exact same thing occurred. She returned, and then disappeared again just two years after.

"I began to harbour suspicions when I went to visit her six years ago. I found her waving goodbye to a witch dressed in concealing robes, with a piece of parchment and her empty purse. She knocked my misgivings aside and told me I was overreacting.

"During the war, she vanished again. When she came back, I decided not go to her again. But when this particular situation came up…I had an idea. If my sister was hiding what I thought she was, we had the ideal solution."

"Ideal solution for what?"

Everyone in the room jumped at the voice but there was no one to be seen. As they regarded the space around them cautiously, there was the slow appearance of a tall witch from thin air, dressed entirely in a vicarious shade of blue from her heavy robes to her eye shadow. Everybody stared at the woman. She was the exact copy of Minerva, if she had been shaken up a little.

Minerva McGonagall pursed her lips. "Athene. You're early."

Her face defying anyone to say a word about the sudden arrival, she looked to the others.

"This is my sister."

There was hardly a need to state it. Athene McGonagall observed them all, her mouth twitching at the corner.

"Didn't your parents ever teach you it's rude to stare?" 

-

Athene placed her teacup back onto the saucer with a clink.

"Now that the formalities are over with, sister dear, you might want to fill me in with the details?"

Hermione thought it very odd that Minerva had barely greeted her sister. There had been a stiff nod and the offer of tea. There had been no sisterly hugs, smiles and 'how's the children?' She might have expected it from her old Head of House but this Athene seemed the exact opposite of her twin. An odd sort of restraint was apparent and the patient countenance of McGonagall looked forced.

"You're a bit of a quiet bunch, I must say." She smiled kindly at Hermione who returned it, immediately warming to the friendly witch. Dumbledore cleared his throat and Minerva crossed over to her sister, a shrewd expression on her face.

"Where is the house, Athene?"

Athene looked puzzled. "My house? Down in Lancashire, Minerva dear, where else would it be? It didn't just sprout legs and move away, you know." She gave a tinkling laugh to herself. "Oh, that reminds me- did I tell you about that poor Muggle who lives next door. Why, just the other day-"

"Athene." Minerva stared at her in annoyance. "I don't need to hear your prattle about that harmless Muggle you insist on meddling with. You know what I'm talking about."

The gentle smile disappeared from Athene's face, replaced by a stubborn fixing of her jaw. "I'm afraid I have no idea of what you're referring to." It was plain she did.

_"Athene,"_ Minerva said crisply. "Every person in this room knows you are hiding something, never mind me. We may have great need of your little 'secret', so cease your mulish attitude if you please."

Athene looked at her sister defiantly, like a child caught doing something naughty. Minerva returned the look. Hermione stifled the giggle she wanted to give and saw Ginny bite her lip to keep from smiling. She'd only ever seen her old Professor act 'bossy' in the classroom, with her sister it was an entirely new situation to apprehend.

Eventually, Athene backed down and sighed, looking down at her hands, a lock of greying black hair falling over her face. "Oh well, I suppose it couldn't be a secret forever." She glanced up at her sister who gazed astutely back.

"What do you want it for?"

"Tell me where it is first."

"Don't be ridiculous Minerva- I have no idea who most of these people are! Knowing you, you've brought a Ministry investigation down on my head," she grumbled.

McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "Incredibly perceptive of you but not quite what it seems."

Confused, Athene glanced around the room. "Why do you need my house?" 

"There is someone we want to place in it," came a voice from the corner. Athene craned round to look at Snape who stood with his back against the wall, arms firmly crossed over his chest.

"Ah, the shadow has a voice. Good Merlin dear, have you ever heard of colour? Did somebody die?"

"_Athene, _if you please-"

"Quite alright Minerva, I prefer to look as if I haven't thrown a can of paint in a most lurid shade over myself, thank you. Though you obviously don't share my opinion, Miss McGonagall."

One of Athene's eyebrows arched and her lips thinned. "Do watch your mouth. At least I don't look like an overgrown bat." She continued on, brushing aside his comment. "Who?"

"Me," came a small voice. Athene looked to Hermione. She studied her closely and then her eyes widened.

"You're that Death Eater the Prophet used to harp on about, aren't you? Hiding criminals are we, Minerva?"

"She isn't a Death Eater. She made a mistake for honourable reasons and has been punished unduly. We need a place for her to stay until we can prove her innocence."

Hermione looked at Snape in surprise. His face was expressionless but he had spoken of her in an odd way, she was sure there was an accolade hidden somewhere within his words.

"Hmmm," Athene looked thoughtful. "I suppose that bungler of a Minister is still after her? You should have left the country, dear," she added.

"I did," answered Hermione flatly.

"Oh."

-

Hermione shrunk her two suitcases and fitted them neatly into her pocket. She looked at the room that had barely been hers. It was nice, she thought, if she had been staying, she would have been glad to live here. She gazed around for a few seconds before returning to the small living room. Ginny sat on the couch, awaiting her with an unhappy expression on her face.

"Are you ready?"

Hermione nodded. The two women left the room and fell in step together as they walked through the dungeon corridor.

"This is all happening too fast," Ginny murmured. "I haven't seen you in years and the minute you come back, you have to be taken away again. At least I know you're going to be safe this time."

Hermione was touched by the sorrowful tone of her friend's voice. "I missed our talks," she said softly. "I used to remember when we would stay up late during my last summer holiday and just talk about anything. It feels like forever since I've been able to be so honest with anyone."

"Well, when you get back…" Ginny smiled. "Because you will. We'll get the Ministry to understand somehow."

"I won't be getting my hopes up too soon, though. I wish I could have seen Kate before I went."

"Are you sure? She's a real terror." At the foot of the dungeon steps, Hermione looked up in surprise. Harry stood there, cradling a small child to his chest with a proud smile. Hermione raced up the steps.

The little girl was pink-cheeked and already had some red curls. Hermione glanced at Ginny. "She looks just like you."

Harry grinned. "I have two beautiful girls now."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Look at you, being all fatherly."

"Who would have thought it?" said Harry smiling. He held the baby towards her. "Would you like to hold her?"

Taken aback, Hermione stepped away, a swarm of emotions enveloping her. She desperately wanted to hold the little girl and remind herself this was one of the reasons it had all been worth it, "I-I…I want to. It's just…if I do."

Harry's eyes met hers and he nodded in gentle understanding. "You're going away.

"But when you're back, you'd better start getting involved with your duties as godmother."

Hermione laughed. "I can't wait."

"Hermione?" The three looked over to where McGonagall had come down the stairs. "We're ready for you now. My sister's memory of the house's location has been Obliviated and the charm has been cast anew. Severus is ready to take the Portkey as soon as you are."

Hermione's eyes widened. "What?"

* * *

**A/N:** Yes, I admit it. I have been negligent again- but there were bunnies. Lots and lots. (Literally- I saved a baby wild rabbit from my cat's clutches on Sunday.)

If you have the time, please check out **Losing Sleep**, and tell me what you think.

I should be able to update a little more now- my French Oral Exam is tomorrow morning at 11.05 (eek) and I leave High School on Friday (yay) Of course, then comes the actual written exams…sigh Je suis condamné!


	15. To Disappear

**Anam Cara**

****

**15. To Disappear**

It wasn't just Hermione staring agape at Minerva McGonagall, both Ginny and Harry joined in, identical disbelief painted upon their faces.

McGonagall observed them all, not looking in the least put out. "Is there something wrong?"

"Is there-!" Hermione spluttered. "Snape's coming with me? Since when? Why?"

"Maybe he's just ensuring the Portkey takes you there safely," said Ginny reassuringly. Just as Hermione considered that that was probably the truth, McGonagall shook her head.

"My dear girl- you didn't honestly believe that we'd send you off to some remote cottage alone?"

"Well…" Hermione trailed off. "But why Snape? You can't tell me he volunteered for the job?"

McGonagall turned towards the stairs so that the three younger Gryffindors wouldn't see the tiny smile creeping across her lips. "Actually, Miss Granger, he did."

As her former Head of House traversed the stairs, Hermione looked to both her friends in desperation. Harry returned the reaction.

"How can I live with _him_? He hates me," she told them in a low hiss. "By the end of it, staying here would be the preferable option."

"You really think so?" McGonagall didn't even turn and Hermione's mouth snapped shut. In Harry's arms, the baby began to writhe about and cry. He struggled to keep her secure. Hermione felt like sinking to the floor and echoing Kate Potter's cries. One moment she had a safe place to live where no one would find her, where she could find herself again and hopefully emerge from when the Minister finally saw sense (or was replaced), and the next, it was all hampered by the dark presence of an ever-brooding Potions Master ready to throw her an insult at every corner.

Ginny, sensing her friend's feelings, gave her an apologetic look. "Normally, Hermione, I might agree with you…but maybe it's a good idea."

Harry shot her a look.

"Look, I'm just saying, Snape might not be an ideal companion but if you're looking for someone who's good in these situations and is probably one of the best wizards you could have around to protect you…he's probably the choice, Hermione."

Reluctantly, Hermione she was right, but that didn't make the situation easier. They followed McGonagall up the stairs to the Headmaster's office, where the small group awaiting them was assembled around Dumbledore's desk. They wore identical looks of grim sobriety. Sending Hermione away was the best choice now, but it didn't mean they liked it. Professor Snape was there, but as always, stood a little way from the familiar group, looking on. McGonagall's sister was no longer there. Hermione wondered if they'd simply performed an Obliviate and sent her on her way, which seemed a little cold after what the witch had given them, no matter how temporary; her refuge. Would she see Athene again, she wondered.

Dumbledore regarded her with a gentle smile, but it was without the customary twinkle. "Are you ready, Hermione?"

Hermione began to nod and then stopped. "I'm just wondering- the new school term starts within a few days- how can Professor Snape be…with me, if he's needed to teach?"

"Oh, that's all taken care of," Dumbledore answered. Hermione swore she heard a derisive snort come from the tall Slytherin's direction. "I have experience in Potions, so I shall be taking Severus's class as long as necessary."

Hermione could have laughed. The elder wizard's rather eccentric way of doing most things could only be outrageously out of place in the Potions dungeon, where silence and rules reigned. Sherbet lemons were considered illicit property.

"Severus knows how to contact me should the need arise," Dumbledore told her. "But I strongly advise against doing so, especially for the next few weeks. We don't want to slip up on some minor detail under the Ministry's eye."

Hermione nodded. "Look…I just want to say thank you. To all of you. You're putting yourselves under suspicion by just being here." She gazed round at the other faces and then frowned. "Where's Draco?" The blonde Slytherin was nowhere to be seen, which she found unsettling.

"He is at the Ministry." Hermione looked over to Snape, her brow creased further.

"Is he-"

"He believes himself to be safe," Snape answered her unfinished question. They have summoned him there so keep him from hindering their impending investigation, I suspect. He has returned to his usual job."

It was a strange feeling, being glad for Draco's safety, Hermione mused, so often having wished for it to be compromised in her school years. Now, she didn't think she could bear it, if, after sticking his neck out for her, Draco's life was worsened just that bit more.

"It would be a good idea to get this over with now," said Snape, looking impatiently and pointedly at the Portkey.

"Just a minute." Hermione looked curiously at Ron. "Hermione…could I just have a word with you? Outside?"

She nodded in consent and followed him outside, to the top of the winding staircase. As she closed the door, she was surprised to find Ron's hand on hers. Hermione abruptly turned to find herself in very close proximity to him.

"Ron…" she started, but never finished, feeling that hand snake it's way up her arm. She closed her eyes briefly as she felt his other hand brush against her face, moving away the tendril that had fallen in front of her eyes.

As she opened them again, she was startled at the intensity shining in his.

"Hermione…" his voice was low. "I missed you. I know I've said it already but it doesn't cover just how _much."_ He scanned her face, shaking his head in incredulity.

"You're still beautiful."

Hermione was lost for words but couldn't remove her gaze from his. This was different to the Ron she'd known. The feeling in his expression was unmistakeable, something that had been missing from their previous, brief relationship. She opened her mouth to attempt to say something, anything, no matter how incomprehensible but Ron silenced her. 

His lips were suddenly, gently pressed against her own. She stiffened slightly but began to respond in kind, allowing herself to place her hands against his chest, and let his arms fall around her waist. Just as she requested entrance to his mouth and began to feel his tongue against her own, stirring a deeper feeling within her, Ron pulled back.

"Not now," he said hoarsely. "After?"

Wordlessly, she nodded. Where had this strangely passionate man been in their seventh year? She barely had time to think about it before Ron opened the door and ushered her back inside. She noticed, with slight embarrassment, that McGonagall was deliberately not looking at her, and Ginny was smiling knowingly at her husband.

One by one, they all shared brief goodbyes. Hermione had just gently kissed Kate's forehead, and turned to find Ron had left. Inwardly, she wasn't surprised- it would have seemed odd, forced even, for him to wave goodbye, as if what had just occurred between them had never happened.

"Are you ready, Miss Granger?"

Hermione looked to Snape, and then to the others in reply.

"I think so," she answered softly, and then nodded more definitely. "Yes."

Her 'protector' held out his hand. A small silver key was lying on his palm.

"Shall we?" he suggested dryly.

Her eyes averted from the others, she stepped forward. Without a backward look, Hermione grasped his proffered hand with her small one and was surprised to find it gentle and warm as it closed around her own. Chocolate eyes met charcoal as they began to feel the customary unpleasant tug the Portkey produced. Within moments, they were gone. Somehow, she couldn't help feeling that she'd left some part of herself behind in that office. Was it for the best? She honestly didn't know yet.

* * *

**A/N: **So the hard bit's over with- I've finally got them alone. Now let's see about the 'Anam Cara' bit. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed. Please don't run from this fic at Ron/Hermione-ness, let's not forget she's going away with a certain someone.

On another note, it's approximately 5 days to the previews of PofA. My seat's booked and the word 'eager' doesn't encompass how much I want to see this film.

**Tabiku Tab Iakkin- **At first glance, I thought your review was a flame. And then I read it properly and was overjoyed. However, I'm afraid that this is _nothing_ to what you can find. My helpful hint is to head to **LordandLadySnape.net.** Every story is quality checked by the HG/SS 'shipper owners. Brilliant site. Thanks for reviewing, and I hope you find others that you like.

**Duj- **I was initially going to have them use a Secret Keeper-but why? I like what I've done here, and it's allowed me to incorporate an OC, who will come into play during later chapters. Besides, it _was _obvious really, and this is my twist on things. I hope you didn't dislike it that much. Thanks for reading.

**Rhyanna/Jean Jelly Bean-** Thanks for the luck- the exam went better than I expected, which is good since I'm doing French at college. Rhyanna- I expect you're doing your G.C.S.E's/A-Levels? Good luck with your oncoming exams and thanks for dropping by.


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